Sparks Fly in the Dark
by raigingstorm
Summary: AU. His attempts were like sparks in the dark - bright initially, but they faded against the black expanse of the forces he was fighting against. Roy/Ed. Summary inside.
1. Chapter One

**_Edit: 6/13/2011 - Edited out typos, fixed spelling errors, ect. For any new readers: :D Welcome to the ride._**

**Hey guys! RaigingStorm here, bringing you a multi-chaptered brain-child of mine. The whole story was brought about by a short story called "An Occurrence at Owl Creek" (which has nothing to do with the plot, oddly enough. Instead, it inspired a scene in my head that inspired this work XD) and a ton of Creed. You will have to have patience with me as I am in school and suffer cruelly at the hands of writers block at times. I'm aiming for weekly to bi-weekly updates, probably on Saturday nights/Sunday mornings. Just so you know.**

**Anyhow, let's get on with the stuff you REALLY want to know.**

**This is an alternate universe in which Amestris had been divided into two nations - the East and Central. Our favorite hot-headed blonde is an Eastern "rebel" who knows a bit more than he should and is trying to bring down Central Command. Meanwhile, our favorite Colonel Bastard is /still/ working to climb up that rank ladder, but he's having doubts already about the integrity of the war. There is definitely something fishy, considering the war wasn't started with a violent act...**

**There WILL BE some heavy yaoi. Roy/Ed, and hopefully I can work up the power to write out some lemony goodness later on :3**

**DISCLAIMER: Fullmetal Alchemist doesn't belong to me. Trust me, if it did, we'd have a shitload of Flame/Fullmetal action, and it wouldn't all be fighting, if ya know what I mean!**

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Sparks Fly in the Dark  
Chapter One

Edward Elric took a deep breath before walking into the old tavern. It didn't bother him that he was underage – he wouldn't be drinking and besides, even if he wanted a beer, he was only a year away from the legal limit. Not to mention the fact he was well-used to breaking _that_ law every now and then. No, it didn't bother him that he was walking into a shrine for alcohol at twenty or that if he got caught, he'd be jailed because of it.

What _did_ bother him, though, was the fact that _this_ was a Central bar, and _he_ was here to glean information from its drunken depths. That if he was discovered to be an Easterner – and one that had been to the Gate, no less – he would be immediately put to death, no questions asked.

Well, maybe there would be questions asked. Questions in a dark room with superior bastards staring him down thinking they knew better than he ever would, demanding that he spill forward all the truth he had ever worked for in life.

Truth they didn't want him or any Easterner to have. Truth he had rightfully gained and didn't want to give up. Truth they didn't have and wanted. Oh yes, there would be questions asked. Especially since he had quite a reputation.

Those who personally knew Ed knew him for his trademark red coat, golden braid, shiny automail, and short temper… which matched his height. They knew an Ed who was pig-headed and hot-blooded but insanely smart. An Ed few really knew.

And those who didn't know Ed personally still knew _of_ him. To them, he was the Fullmetal Rebel – a notorious saboteur known for his craftiness. When the war had first broken out, he had first become known for purposefully trying to reach the Gate in a Central building. This process had let to a rather large explosion that had ripped through the structure, bringing it to its knees. Not to mention him, as it had cost him his damn right arm and left leg, but this fact had escaped his legend. He was thought of as untouchable… made of impenetrable metal, like a tank. Hence his name.

He was also known for that Truth. He was known for his knowledge of the Gate and his ability to reach that god-forsaken place without that witchcraft fluttering about Central called Alchemy. He was known for knowing the link the higher-ups in Central did not know, and for hungrily tracking down the link they _did_ have.

For you see, Edward Elric knew all about that Gate. All Easterners had some affiliation with it. Edward just happened to know the most. However, Edward Elric did _not_ know alchemy. Centralists knew about that. And therein this mass mix of knowing and not knowing lay the whole reason for the war that ripped through Amestris:

Without knowledge of the Gate, alchemy was a flimsy spark at best.

And what, exactly, can one do with a stone archway with an unyielding door? Especially one that is painstakingly hard to get to in the first place…

But neither side was willing to relent to the other because in doing so, the side with both fractions of knowledge would be all-consumingly powerful. Neither the East, nor the Center powers of Amestris would allow the other that kind of power. So the two nations within a nation warred on in its civil destruction.

This was why Edward was wary upon entering the tavern. The place smelled of old food, bad beer, and terrible breath. The blonde stopped himself from crinkling his nose at the stench. Tinny music played from a machine in a far corner – a desperate attempt to set up a mood that failed, however, to set up any sense of atmosphere. Men sat scattered about in the dark room, drowning themselves in misery. There was no liveliness to be found. Ed wasn't surprised, though. Men who sat in bars at noon on a workday were often men of misery.

He made his way to the bar and took a seat by a man in Central uniform. He was an oddity there, much like Edward himself, for it appeared as though he wasn't there to waste his life away. His skin was a pale complexion, his raven hair kept short and somewhat neat. He turned at Ed's approach and took in the younger man with intelligent onyx-colored eyes.

The gaze made Ed feel uneasy. It was too intelligent, too searching…

The blonde's eyes flickered over the man's uniform. Three stars dotted his shoulders on each side. A colonel. He could cause Ed some trouble… however, he could also prove to be a valuable source of information.

Besides, Ed loved a challenge.

When the bartender asked him proof of his age, Ed handed him his fake identification card. The old man laughed and gave him a drink on the house. "You should drink to your good looks," he said through deep chuckles, "You are so young!"

So as to not appear suspicious, Ed took a sip of his drink. He swallowed the bitter fluid and managed to not gag before ordering lunch to appease his growling stomach. When the food arrived, he devoured it almost comically. Beside him, the colonel continued to watch him, though now he seemed slightly amused.

"You must be hungry." The man's voice made him look away from his meal. It was a pleasant tone, not the rough sound that usually came from military officers.

"Oh. Yeah," Edward's brain set to work, lining up the questions he knew he had to ask the man and figuring ways to coax the answers he needed. He started simple. A test run. "I see you're a military colonel. What are you doing here at noon? Aren't military officers supposed to be working at this time of day? I know they can't be completely useless."

The man easily ignored the jab at his job and replied evenly. "I could ask the same of you. You're young, you appear to be somewhat intelligent… Why are _you_ in a bar at noon?"

Ah. Touché. "I'm here because I've got no job, yet. But you have one," the lie slid easily from his lips. Edward almost believed it himself.

"Mm, you're right," the man conceded, "I'm here because it's a lunch break in my shift."

"You drink during your lunch shift? Damn, the military really _is _useless."

"No," the officer grinned, a kind of handsome thing, really… "You've got me there. Actually, I plan on not returning to work today. You see, I have quite a pile of paperwork I was supposed to complete and my lieutenant takes it all quite seriously. So I'm planning on avoiding her for the rest of the evening until she calms down and I can turn in what I _have_ done with little to no pain."

"Your lieutenant has that much control over you? What, are you some sort of dumbass officer or something?"

That hit a nerve. The colonel's face washed over with irritation for a second as he stared evenly at Ed. "That's a pretty big assumption coming from a small kid."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE COULD DROWN IN A RAINDROP?" Ed yelled and then took a second to regain control from his outburst. The bar was silent and his words left an awkward ring in the air. The colonel stared at him in shock for a moment and then laughed – another pleasing sound.

"What's your name?" he took a sip of his own drink, dark eyes watching him all the while.

"E-ah… Alphonse Rockbell." The question had almost caught him off guard.

"Well, _Alphonse_," the man put emphasis on his borrowed name, as though he knew it were a lie. "I have a question for you. Do you have an opinion on the war?"

Ed almost choked on a bit of (sandy!) sandwich. "I think, er… what was your name?"

"Colonel Roy Mustang."

"Well, Colonel Mustang, I think it's a pretty dumbass reason to fight. What's knowledge when there's no one alive to make use of it?"

A dark eyebrow rose at his answer. "So then you know _what_ information we are after?"

"N-no!" Ed quickly spat. "I just know those Easterners know something we want. And we must want it pretty bad to call war on them just to get it. I think it's ridiculous."

"That's treason, you know. Thinking that way and not verbally supporting the war effort."

"Yeah, well. I'm allowed my own opinion. I pay my taxes and help Central that way. Besides, I'm not telling my view to any old person. You asked, remember?" Ed watched amusement cross the pale face again.

"That's true." Colonel Mustang took a sip of his drink.

"…what's _your_ opinion on the war?"

Onyx eyes once again shifted to take in golden ones. They still made the blonde uneasy. "A war is a war. As a man of the military, it doesn't matter what I think. It won't matter until I reach the top of the ladder and my opinion determines who dies how and for what cause."

"Sounds like you have quite an ambition there."

A smirk made its ways onto Mustang's lips and eyes. "Why yes, I suppose I do."

A silence settled between the two, and Edward took the time to analyze his current target. He did not, at _all_, appear to be the typical military dog. Mustang _looked_ the sort to disobey a command here and there when he could get away with it – or when he had to. His name itself brought on a sense of "thinks-on-his-own," and Ed _liked_ that. Few things could piss the blonde off quicker than a brainless military officer.

"…with what your challenged height and all." Except digs at his vertically-challenged body.

"I AM NOT SHORT, DAMN YOU!" Ed shot a murderous glare at the bartender, who had at some point started talking to him about some senseless something-or-another.

"Okay, okay…" The guy held his hands up in an easy surrender and walked away to take care of a different customer.

"You _are_ a bit deprived in the height department." Edward's golden orbs snapped to a smirking Mustang.

"Who are you calling short?" he hissed.

"A little touchy about our lack of stature, it seems."

"I'm not touchy!" Ed wanted to smack the bastard now. "And I'm not fucking short! I'm small-boned!"

"Sure, sure…" Ed felt those damned onyx eyes flick down his "small-boned" frame and had to turn away to hide the color that began to tint at his face. Behind him, he could hear the man chuckling softly, like he had done it on purpose and gotten the reaction he had wanted. Somehow, this served to irritate Ed more.

"_What are you laughing f—" _out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a familiar blonde mechanic out the tavern door. He watched as she gestured to her pocket watch – time for him to split. With an inward curse – he never got to really question the man – he stood and laid out the appropriate monetary amount to cover his expenses.

Beside him, the colonel looked from Ed to the girl outside and then back again. "Leaving so soon?"

"Yeah. My partner's waiting on me." He turned to go and paused, coming to a quick decision in his mind. "Mustang…"

"Alphonse?"

"…you should call in sick tomorrow. And avoid your lieutenant for another day."

Colonel Mustang blinked, surprised at the cryptic message. "And why is that?"

"Just a suggestion," Edward quickly replied and with that, turned and left the tavern, leaving the colonel slightly confused and himself in an odd mental turmoil.

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**I love reviews, just so you know. They inspire me to write.**


	2. Chapter Two

**_6/13/11 - Edited_**

**Hey guys! As promised, here is the next chapter one week later. I really like how this is going so far, and I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it! **

**There's a little note I forgot to add last chapter. In this fic, I'm taking writer's initiative and altering the character's age differences. Instead of there being 14-16 years difference between these two, I am making it 7. That means Ed is 20, and Roy is 27. It makes the situation less... awkward... as far as age goes, and still leaves that gap to make everything believable... even though I am tearing poor Amestris apart anyways!**

**I apologize in advance for any OoCness in this chapter. I feel the events that took place are a little necessary. I loved the episode in FMA when Ed was so shaken over almost being killed by Barry the Chopper. It really showed a glimpse of human in our favorite hero, and gave me the liberty to write an emotional Ed. Anyhow, I'll shut my mouth now so you can get to the reading!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own FMA. It makes me sad. The world needs more Fullmetal/Flame.  
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Sparks Fly in the Dark  
Chapter Two

Edward winced as he felt the sharp sting of the knife dig into his finger, effectively slicing a cut that would bleed and give as much fluid as he would need. Quickly, he drew out the still somewhat foreign designs on the wall of the central command building. It was early morning and only one day after he had entered the bar and given the colonel his warning. The sun hadn't risen yet, and if Ed had it his way, it would rise to shed light on nothing but rubble and him far away and unharmed.

But things hardly went his way.

While the blonde didn't really understand what each intricate spiral he crafted meant, he did know what they would lead to. He was, once again, attempting to get to the stone archway that managed to make him shudder in fear and deploy large explosions. The place he had used to destroy his last target, the place he had to figure out for his brother.

For Alphonse.

The first time he had ever entered the ethereal realm with his brother in tow, they had been fishing for their mother's soul. She had recently died, and in an old leather-bound book the two young children had read about the Gate. It was the place where the deceased went, so it had to be where one could go to get them back, right?

A chibi, golden-eyed blonde had found that this wasn't so. That night in the barn he and his brother had stepped into the world of the dead and only one had come back. Al had been sucked into the gaping vortex the Gate had opened to reveal, and Ed had been thrown out panicked and crying. He had been spared, but his brother had been lost.

Repeated attempts to get Alphonse back had only resulted in consequences for him and an unyielding door. Sometimes he swore he could hear his brother's cry for help, could see a glimpse of his pleading face in his mind's eye. These drove him on, even as his own body was deteriorating from his efforts. The first rescue attempt left him with his golden hair in tatters and the laughing stalk of bullies. There were other times that had been less extreme, too. Baby teeth ripped from his mouth when he still had them, various slashes across his chest and back which had scarred over, even a whole organ – thankfully, the appendix – had been torn from his body. The worst, by far, had been the last time. That time he had _used_ the Gate, had traveled to it for an explosion he wanted. _It_ didn't like that. In return for his insolence, it had taken his right arm and his left leg, and spat him out, bleeding and barely conscious, on the floor of the then-burning building.

That had been a year and a half ago. Twelve full years after Alphonse had been taken.

"I will get you back." Ed's hoarse whisper echoed across the hall. He would fight tooth and nail to reach the boy again. Maybe their mother was a lost cause, but Ed would get Al back. It was his fault, and he would fix it. Even if it took his own life.

And Ed _was_ fighting. He knew these central bastards _had _to know more about the arrays he was drawing than any book could ever tell him. And they refused to divulge their knowledge. Despite Resembool's then being considered a Central town, he had joined the Easterners when the higher-ups refused him the information he needed. In the East, he had been met with open arms at the tender age of twelve, and had quietly submerged himself in all the knowledge the state had to offer him.

Many sought to help him, including his fiery childhood friend, Winry. Together, they joined the Rebel forces to bring down Central, or at the very least, steal the information Edward needed. They spied, researched, even fought in a few of the battles that had broken out between the two opposing forces, but no break had come to them. The answer still eluded their grasps, and it even seemed as though the East was beginning to wither in the war.

Edward knew something drastic had to happen. And soon.

With a low mutter, he finished his arrays and placed his hands on the fresh blood, willing his energy to spread into the markings and split the air to reveal the entryway to the place his was aiming for. After a moment, he felt warmth under his flesh appendage as chemical reagents pushed for paranormal products. He closed his eyes against the bright glow he knew would soon accompany the reaction, and braced his body for the flinging it was about to experience.

His feet felt like they had left the ground, and he knew he was there. Opening his eyes revealed the white world devoid of life aside from himself and the promise of trapped souls behind an archway built from green stones, a heavy door firmly shut in it. Ed took a deep breath and walked forward, glaring at the eyes carved into the door, waiting for them to open and see him before them again.

"Hey! You stupid pile of fucking stones!" Step one: aggravate the Gate, causing it to open momentarily and unleash large, unaccounted for amounts of energy.

The carved eyes slowly opened in annoyance at the disturbance. Edward stared firmly back, refusing to back down. "Yeah, it's me again. Gimme my brother, ya fucking piece of shit! You have no goddamned use for him!"

Stone eyes looked at him…. And _rolled_. What? "….Did you just fucking _roll_ your eyes…?" The Gate had never moved before, aside from opening or watching him move about. Since when had it been able to do more, let alone get an attitude?

"The yellow-headed mortal doesn't think very clearly. He is back again with nothing to offer_."_

The _fuck? _The Gate just _spoke!_ "Oh, so now you can _talk?_" Edward shot back, his voice hot and trying to hide his internal fear.

"We have always been able to speak. We spoke the first time the mortal and his kin entered our realm. Memory must not be a strong point in human."

The Gate's words brought back a memory of a younger self standing, demanding his mother's life back.

"_Life belongs to the ones who create it, not the ones who come from it. Go home and do not seek to come here again."_

"_NO! We won't leave without Mother!" _

"_Foolish child. You do not see. Life does not belong to you."_

"I fucking remember…" Ed fought back a suffocating wave of emotion as he remembered his brother's face being torn from him. "I fucking remember what you did." Somewhere inside him was slowly tearing as he spoke, "I fucking remember you taking him."

"It was the price." The voice seemed like it came from everywhere and yet had no source. The words themselves carried heavy solemnity, as serious as their meaning.

"No… no, damn you! It was no price!" Ed felt his self-control slipping. All he could see was Alphonse. Alphonse smiling, Alphonse laughing… Alphonse trying to convince Ed not to try to get Mother back. Alphonse reluctantly agreeing to help him. Alphonse screaming for Ed as he was taken.

_Alphonse…. _

"It was no price! You fucking SHIT! It was no price! I made him! I made him come here to this fucking hell! I made him! You should have fucking taken me! Why didn't you take me? It wasn't his fault!" Ed could feel his voicebox tear, and he knew if he made it from this alive, he wouldn't be speaking for a while. But he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. "I have had nothing but _shit!_ You have caused nothing but shit for me to deal with! Where is my brother, you useless fucking stone _thing_? _Where is Alphonse?_"

"Your brother is beyond your reach, child. Go home."

"What, so you can continue holding him? I'm not leaving until you give him back! I'm done with your games!" His eyes were stinging now, liquid gold mixing with liquid emotion. "You fucking bastard. You fucking bastard…"

"Leave. You have trespassed here enough."

"Or what? Will you take my other arm and leg? Were they not enough last time? Was my brother not enough? My _fucking life?_" Tears fell to a white floor as he broke, unleashing sixteen years of pain and hurt and disappointment. "You took him from me… What price is there in that? What do I get in exchange? Where's the equality? Where's the fairness? What did I get for my lost brother? For my lost mother?" a sob racked his frame as he fell to his knees.

"You fucking thing… you took my life and left me to live as an empty shell. For what? Do you get some sick pleasure out of it? To think we fight to keep your goddamned existence a secret. People die for you and they don't even really know what the _fuck_ you are! Nobody knows. And all you can fucking say is 'go home.' Well, guess what? I'm fucking staying until you pay me back, you pile of shit! I'm staying!" Ed's flesh arm shook violently as he raised his gaze to the stone eyes, which remained as emotionless as ever.

"Foolish child. You do not understand. You never will. Leave now, and never return. Your brother and your appendages were not price enough for you? We are so merciful as to let you exist and live on to meet your fate and yet you question us? Truly you have no grasp as to what our rage can do." The Gate's voice steadily rose in intensity. "You will leave. You will not come back, child. You do not know how to get your kin back, and you won't as long as you remain the way you are. Do not question our decisions! We create life, and so may take it back if that is what we so desire! Learn your place, mortal, for you _do not know_." Upon the final words, the gate flung itself open, unleashing a powerful wave of energy upon the blonde, causing him to be thrown backwards. He felt a slash across his side – the Gate's repercussion this time – and pain spread across his body. His feet left the ground, and the whiteness of the Gate's world faded away to the pre-dawn place he had left moments before.

Edward felt the floor below him and sank slowly to it without opening his eyes. He shuddered as he continued to sob relentlessly. He was lost in his sorrow. He had kept it in far too long. He had been trying for far too long. He had been failing for far too long.

What a fucking mess.

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In the end, Roy had decided against taking the strange boy's advice and, instead, had decided to come in early the next day, completed paperwork in hand. The man was up before the sun, walking along the quite streets to Central Command to open his office and take a few quite moments to slack off before Hawkeye arrived.

He wore the same old uniform, his six stars shining dully in the lamplight as he moved down the familiar pathways to work. It only took a few minutes to reach the building and a few more minutes to unlock the door and navigate halfway to his department. There was nothing but the steady sound of his boots on the smooth floor until he rounded a corner near the information wing. Then, a foreign presence made itself known by means of quiet sobbing. Roy blinked as his guard went up. Who would be in Central Command so early in the morning… and _crying_, no less?

He pulled out a chalk piece as he braced himself for a coy enemy in the shadows. Alchemy may not be as quick as a gunshot, but it was unexpected and often led to the gaining of the upper hand in battles. And normally, it was discreet.

Roy drew a small circle on the wall. It would, when activated, unleash a wave of sparks that would burn the target – the best and most powerful array created yet. He silently hoped the array would work for him, since he had only managed to get it to work a few times before… Oh well, if it didn't then he still had his gun. Fully prepared for the situation at hand, he stepped around the corner to face the intruder…

…And almost cried out in shock when he saw Alphonse sitting on the floor, covered in his own blood, crying.

"…Alphonse?"

Bitterly, the boy replied, "he's still fucking gone. He's still…" golden eyes flicked up to view the colonel before them. He looked surprised, and then guarded his expression quickly after.

"What are you doing here, Alphonse?" Suspicion quickly began to grow in Roy. The opinion, the message, and now this…

"I… I…" The blonde was at a loss for words. Completely understandable, but still…

"You are not in the military, last I checked. Therefore, you are not authorized to be in Command before hours. I demand an answer, Alphonse, or else I will be forced to take you into custody." Damn, he hated being a military dog sometimes. His duty had to be one of the worst in the world.

"…don't call me that."

"What?" Roy hadn't been expecting that as a reply.

"Don't fucking call me by that name. He's not me. He never did anything to deserve that…"

The raven-haired colonel observed as the younger man stood on wobbly legs. "Then what would you prefer I call you?"

"By my name… my name… not Alphonse…" the blonde wheezed out, obviously in pain.

"What is your name?" Roy frowned.

"It's Edward." Edward's eyes looked dead, his body looked weary, and his side was bleeding heavily.

"What have you been doing here, Edward?"

"None of your business."

Roy bit back a sharp reply. This was not the time. The man was obviously delirious. "Do you need help walking? We need to get you to a hospital."

"No… no… I can't go there. I can't go there…." Edward's face was almost pleading as he looked to Roy. "Please…"

"Then…" Roy sighed, oddly resigned already. With his medical training he could probably help the blonde… and somewhere… he knew the truth. The man was no Centralist. If he got better, then he could be questioned. Roy had a feeling the man was quite intelligent and could easily assist in the war with his knowledge. But that would never happen if he was left in the Central Command's care. Edward would never see the light of day if Roy handed him over. "I guess we will have to go to my house. Can you walk? How badly are you injured?"

"I can…" Edward stuttered as he almost fell. A long string of expletives followed suit, interrupted by a pathetic sniffling of his nose. "I can walk."

"You are a terrible liar." Roy walked forward and helped the blonde over to a nearby chair. "Wait here. I need to clean up your mess and find something to stop your bleeding." His words were met with a silent nod.

The colonel turned on his heels and walked over to a closet. Inside were materials he could use to clean up the blood from Edward, but nothing he could use to bind the man's side. And from the looks of it, he needed it. Now. So Roy did the first thing that came to mind: he stripped his jacket off and removed his shirt, praying that it would effectively wrap around the Edward's body.

He walked back to the blonde and spoke in a surprisingly calm voice. "Listen to me, Edward. If you can, I need you to take off your shirt. I've got to bandage it up to stop the bleeding and I also need to see the degree of the wound."

Once again, no audible reply came from the man. Instead, he moved forward solemnly and undid his jacket and shirt, quickly shedding them and revealing his bare skin under it. Roy suppressed a gasp at the sight. Edward's torso wasn't only marred by the deep gash in his side, but also by what looked to be many scars and, quite possibly the worst of all, an automail arm attached to his right shoulder. What had this man done? Now there was no doubt in Roy's mind. Edward was an Easterner, and one who had seen combat many, many times. And that meant he had been here to sabotage the Command center, and also meant that Roy was committing true treason by helping the man. But Roy knew what torture awaited Edward. And try as he might, he could not bring himself to leave the fiery man in the cold hands of the military. Not while he was so wounded. Not while he seemed so mysteriously broken. Not while, honestly, he didn't trust the cause for the war in the first place.

Despite common belief, Roy Mustang _did_ have a heart.

Roy leaned forward and examined the wound. It appeared deep and would require stitching. Thankfully, that skill had been passed on to all military officers before one of the first major battles, so Roy could easily fix that. The problem would lie in the chance that the blonde's wound could be infected. If that happened, then the situation would be out of Roy's control. Tentatively, Roy reached out to touch the edge of the cut, seeking any foreign particles that may have been embedded in the skin.

A metal hand weakly smacked his own flesh one. "Don't fucking touch me."

The dark-haired man sighed. This was going to be one long process if the blonde was going to fight him the whole way. "I have to see, Edward."

"Just fucking wrap it up. It'll be fine."

Slightly annoyed, Roy moved to obey the hoarse voice's command. It was better to keep the man less upset. He watched as Edward winced when he bound the wound up, despite taking care to be gentle. That done, he moved to clean the blood from the walls and floors, wrinkling his nose at the metallic smell. No matter how many times he smelled the red fluid, he would never be used to the harsh scent. When he finished, he quickly went to help the blonde up and out of the building. He knew there wasn't much time before someone would arrive at the center and start asking questions.

Roy slung Edward's automail arm over his shoulder and worked to support his weight. The blonde merely gave a grunt in reply. When he was steady, Roy took a step forward and helped the other man to walk beside him. In this way, they made their way out of the building and to the older man's house, both staying silent the whole way.

This was going to be one long day.

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**I love feedback guys, seriously. It makes my day to see you guys favorite, alert, and/or review this. I smile every time. **

**However, I do apologize for leaving off in a rather... bad place, I guess. **

**Until next time! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Here is the next insallment of Sparks Fly in the Dark. I'm trying to go a little slow with everything now, and to be honest, I only have a shell of a plot right now. It's growing, though, because when I started this, there wasn't really a clue at all as to what I wanted to do! So bear with me on this. It'll pick up pretty quickly sometime soon.**

**In other news... you have no idea how close this was to not getting published on time! My computer got hit up with a nasty virus that I couldn't do ANYTHING about this week, and I had to take it to the shop to get it fixed. But it's back in working order, and you get an update! ...Though, I'm pretty sure this one is shorter. Can't really tell. It's late at night and I've had one long day...**

**Anyhow, enough with the blabber. On to chapter three~!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own FMA. I just own this fucked-up world I've tossed these amazing characters into... and am making them fall in lurve in.  
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Sparks Fly in the Dark  
Chapter Three

They had gotten to Roy's house without incident. As if fate had been on their side, no one has passed them on the street. No one had heard the blonde's quiet groans of pain. No one had seen the colonel assist the rebel. By the time they reached their destination, it was very near sunrise. Birds had begun to sing, filling the air with peaceful chirps.

Roy's home, Ed found, was midsized – not large and excessive, but certainly not small and modest, either. The older man gave entrance into his house, flicking on the light to reveal a tidy entryway leading into a living room with comfortable-looking furniture and a large stone fireplace. Despite it being the enemy's living space, the house had an odd secure feeling to it…. Like nothing would happen to Ed as long as he has inside.

The colonel walked with him over to the couch and laid him gently on it. "Wait here just a minute."

When Ed nodded in response, Roy walked away, leaving the younger man to himself and his thoughts. Edward was no idiot. He knew, without a doubt, that the colonel had figured him out. Honestly, he hadn't done a good job of protecting his identity this time. What the strange thing was, however, was the fact that he hadn't turned Ed in yet. Shit, the man had caught him _trying to blow up his own Headquarters_. What was stopping him? Why was Roy committing an act of treason to keep him alive? It didn't make sense, especially when Ed coupled this fact with his previous statement of his high aspirations.

And there was something else that didn't add up. Aside from the ever-burning flame in his gut that screamed for Al's return, Ed didn't care that he was at the mercy of Mustang. There _had_ to be something fundamentally wrong in that. Edward was a fighter; he never just gave up or didn't care. And he sure as hell hated being dependent on anybody for anything. Yet there the feeling was – existing.

Ed shoved it down. He simply could not afford to be apathetic. Al was still depending on him. Al _needed_ him. Ed had already failed him, and the blonde refused to continue to fail him.

Roy came back carrying a bottle of isopropyl, sterile thread, needle, a knife, and real bandages. Onyx eyes unreadable, he knelt down beside the blonde. "Lift your arms."

"Fuck you." Golden eyes flared with defiance. He didn't need Roy's help. "I'll do it myself."

"No," annoyance flickered in the older man's voice, "you won't. I'm willing to bet you don't even know how to _clean_ a wound, let alone stitch one up."

"I can fucking take care of myself! I don't need your help!" Edward hissed, his voice still rough from earlier's experience with the Gate.

"Obviously you do." Ed shot the colonel a dirty glare at that. "If I had left you, would you even be alive right now?"

Roy's question hung unanswered in the air.

"My point is made. Please tell me your brainpower level does not match your height."

"Who are you calling short?" Ed glared again at the man. How _dare_ he…!

"Arms up. Now. Or I can pin you down like a child and do it."

"Fuck you, fucking bastard. I'd like to see you fucking try." Ed gasped when Roy pushed him harshly back by the shoulders – obviously fed up with arguing – and maneuvered himself so that he straddled the blonde's lower half. Warm hands moved his flesh and metal arms above his head, lighting pain through his side.

"A-ahh! G-get off!" Ed could feel heat build at his cheeks. What the fuck?

"I warned you." Roy stopped any retort by using his knife to cut through the soiled white shirt that had been used as a makeshift bandage. It took a considerable amount of Edward's willpower not to cry out again, the red-stained white fabric peeling away from his skin and pulling at his gash. Fresh blood began to well up and spill out.

However, the blonde could not stop his shout of pain when the colonel put the cleansing alcohol onto a spare rag and pressed it to the wound. "MOTHER FUCKER!" Sure, Ed had endured worse, but this shit was a pretty close second. What was more, his member was rubbing against the other man's leg as he moved about trying to clear the gash, making him even more uncomfortable, if that was even possible. "You fucking bastard…"

Roy worked silently, appearing immune to the blonde's profanity. Ed bit his lip hard enough to bleed when he felt the needle come through his skin and start to pull the gash closed. Twice, he failed in his attempts and cried out and squirmed. The man above him only paused to hold him still and then continued once he had stopped.

When the needle removed itself and the string was cut, Roy got off of Edward. While his newly-stitched wound burned, the rest of him felt oddly cold now. The older man's warm hands took hold behind his back and gently propped him up. Ed felt exhaustion flood over him, and it must have shown in his eyes because he heard an almost gentle murmur resonate from the colonel. "Almost done, Edward. Just hang on."

"Fucking bastard…" Was his voice really that raw and tired?

The colonel reached for the bandages and wrapped them around Ed's torso, electing a quiet groan from the blond when he pulled them tight. When he was finished, Roy helped to set Ed gently back on the couch and covered him with a blanket to keep him warm. Golden eyes watched a dark-haired colonel walk to the window and draw the curtains shut, effectively blocking out the growing light outside.

"You should rest for now. You look exhausted. I need to return to work so no one becomes suspicious. If you are not here when I get back, I will report you. I am giving you a chance here, Edward. I know what you are and who you support. Do not make me regret this." Roy looked to him. Ed nodded in response, saving his voice from further abuse. "Good. Now rest."

For Roy, the day passed on fairly normal. Somehow, none of his colleges knew what he was doing, or what had happened that morning. He must have done a decent job clearing up the mess the blonde had made.

He was odd, the blonde. Roy knew he was an Eastern rebel, and quite possibly a suicidal one, but there was something about him that was different from the others he had seen and even killed. He thirsted for his side's victory and was willing to go to extremes to accomplish that (like so very many in warfare), but there was a reason behind it that wasn't malicious. The man was powerful, but it didn't seem that he wanted Central's information to gain more. Roy thought about what Edward has said previously about the real Alphonse, that he was gone. This Alphonse had to be close to the blonde. Roy was willing to bet he had something to do with the younger man's quest.

Roy sighed and sifted through paperwork. He could question Edward later. And he most certainly would be. If Roy was going to stick his neck out to keep him alive, the least he could do was give Roy a little bit of information. Honestly, he could lose his job, his future, his _life _over this.

Hawkeye walked in his office, shooting daggers with her eyes and body language promising shooting from other things. "And what happened to you yesterday after lunch, _Sir_?"

"I felt ill, Lieutenant. I felt it necessary to take the rest of the day off. My paperwork is done, however, if you would like that now. It is on the corner of the desk." Roy kept his voice steady and calm, though it wasn't at all how he felt with the woman's hands twitching for her handgun.

"For some reason I doubt that was the case, but I'll take your word for it, Sir," Hawkeye sighed slightly. "Just get your work done today, and _do_ make sure you come back from lunch today." With that, she took up his pile of completed paperwork and walked out of the office.

Roy realized he had been holding his breath and released it. Sometimes, that woman really frightened him.

Ed awoke to the door shutting and the sound of boots walking across tile. Adrenalin filled his system, quickening his heartbeat until he remembered where he was and what had happened. Oh shit. What had he gotten himself into?

The room was dark still due to the closed curtains. Ed removed the blanket from him and moved to sit up… and quickly laid back down when a wave of pain and nausea hit him like a train. A quiet moan escaped him at the intensity. He felt awful. The Gate was becoming more and more severe in the punishments it dealt. Not that this was worse than the last time, oh no. Nothing could top that.

Roy entered the room, working on removing his military jacket and loosening his shirt. Onyx eyes pierced golden ones. Ed really wished he could just fucking sit up – he felt so defenseless – but he wasn't willing to brave the repercussions such an action would have on him. The man _had_ saved him. It probably wouldn't do to puke on his carpet.

Roy sat on the chair facing the couch Ed occupied. The man stared at him for a moment, and then asked, "So are you going to tell me what's going on? Why were you in Central Command?"

Edward swallowed. He really didn't want to do this, but did he really have a choice in the matter? "I was there to blow it up. Things just didn't go my way."

"And why were you trying to blow up Central's headquarters?" Ed knew the man already knew the answer to that question.

"Because I felt it necessary."

"_Why?_"

"Because I know we are losing the war, and we need an upper hand." Ed stared evenly at his newly-turned interrogator. "Because it is needed for my side."

"So you _are_ an Easterner."

"No shit, genius." Ed rolled his eyes. "Did it honestly take you _that long_ to piece that one together?"

"No. I figured. Just wanted to hear it from you." Roy laid back in the chair, appearing to relax. Silence set in for a moment and then… "Who is Alphonse?"

Again, one of the man's questions had caught Ed by total surprise. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Alphonse. The man's name who you used. The one you said is still gone. Who is he, and what does he have to do with what you were doing?" Damn. This guy was quick. One of Ed's most closely guarded secrets, and he knew it, just like that.

"It's none of your damn business who he is. He's not here so you have no reason to know about him."

"So he's close to you. You're working awfully hard to protect him. What is he, a lost lover?"

"I'm not gay!" Ed's voice cracked painfully, still damaged from before.

"Right." Smirk. What the fuck. Those damn eyes ran down his exposed frame with a disorienting intensity. Why…? What the shit?

"Alphonse is my brother, you fucking bastard!" Pink tinted at his face. Why was he blushing like a _girl_ because of another _man_?

"Your brother, hmm? What happened to him?" Roy's eyes bored into him. _Bored_.

"Yes, dipshit, my brother. He's gone." Ed shut his mouth after that, refusing to say more. _He_ didn't need to know.

"How were you trying to blow up Headquarters? I didn't see any explosives, and you don't know alchemy."

Ed chose his next words carefully. "I know what you lack, shithead. Was usin' my own stuff to do it."

"Well, what the hell happened? Obviously it didn't work out too well."

"Things didn't go my way," Ed repeated from earlier. "And I'm not saying more than that. So you can fuck off."

"For someone who was on his deathbed this morning, you sure are short-fused." Roy said, "and rather uncooperative, especially considering I'm the reason you're not dead yet."

"Yeah, well. Don't get your panties in a bunch. You aren't getting any better from me." Ed watched the man stand and walk over to him, covering the distance in two strides.

Roy leaned down, hovering his face above Ed's. "W-what are you doing, bastard?"

"You shouldn't push me. It's not very smart," the man threatened.

"Idle threats don't bother me," Ed retorted.

"Just remember whose life is in whose hands right now. I could have you killed right now for everything you've done. You'd be just be another war casualty." His voice was dead even as his eyes looked dead on into Ed's.

Edward's mind blanked out and for once, he couldn't come up with a comeback, couldn't come up with a way out.

"That's what I thought." The smirk returned, and the colonel moved away from him and walked away into the other room.

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**I would also like to mention that you guys rock! I am loving all the feedback I'm getting! I think it's keeping the writer's block at bay. Keep it up, please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! I'm back a little early this week with the update! However... it's a little short this time around. But! If you are nice, I might update really, really soon. Saayyy... Tomorrow? We'll see ;D **

**Anyhow... I'm sorry if this is slow! Next one will have a bit more movement, I promise! Next chapter will also have the scene that started it all!**

**On with the reading, right?**

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Sparks Fly in the Dark  
Chapter Four

Edward had sat in stunned silence for a while. The man had some _nerve_, sticking his face in Ed's like that. Didn't he realize who the blonde was?

Oh. He probably didn't.

Edward's name wasn't associated with the title he was given – Fullmetal Rebel. God, how he hated that title. And lucky for Ed, his automail wasn't associated either. Just his deeds, and the older man could interrogate all he wanted – Edward was not about to tell him _anything_ of Eastern value. The _only _way that would happen was if Mustang knew the way to get Al back. Which, by the way, was highly unlikely.

But while Ed was sure Roy didn't know _who_, exactly, was in his house at the moment, the blonde knew he had to go before he was caught by someone who could figure it out. And with the way things were going, that time would be that very evening after the colonel went to sleep. As safe (or whatever it was he felt) in the house, Ed knew where he belonged and what he had to fight for. He had sworn to himself he would never forget that cold October night, so many years ago. Not ever.

Ed's attention flew to the doorway when the sound of clanging emanated from the other side. What was the man doing? If it was a kitchen then that would mean… Roy was cooking..? A blush painted his cheeks lightly. The action seemed so intimate… It was just… odd. Ed was used to chow hall food or quick Meals Ready to Eat (MRE's) when out on the battlefield. The last time someone had cooked for him was when Winry had tried to "be more than just friends," as she put it. Of course, Ed's rejection at the time had meant hot stew flung in his face and a different automail mechanic for a week, but the pair had gotten over it and were as close as ever. But what about Roy? Shit, the man didn't even _know_ Ed. Why would he do something…

A million thoughts blew through the blonde's mind, ranging from the most likely – that Eastern customs (or maybe just what Ed was used to) were different from Central's and the food meant nothing – to the most flamboyant and unlikely – honestly, the colonel _trying to be "more than friends"? _Was Ed _stupid?_

In the end, he decided there was only one way to find out and, standing quickly (and wincing as he did so), the blonde walked into the kitchen.

It was, indeed, a kitchen. And Roy was, indeed, cooking. And, _damn,_ the man was sexy without a uniform to block his body – wait, what the fuck did he just think?

Roy had changed into a simple white tee and sweats sometime before starting his task. Now, he was moving to-and-fro, practically _dancing_ for all the movement that accompanied the action, and working to compile something edible. His hair looked like he had given it a good run-through with his hands and was now messy. His pants clung tightly to his butt, and –

Stop. Now was _not _ the time to suddenly become interested with appearances. Or to have questions about sexuality.

"You are… cooking?" Ed's voice was still scratchy and rough, but this time it was laced with suppression.

The raven-haired man turned and looked at him. "Yes," he said, "I am. Have you not had cooked food before?"

Swallowing the bitter remark left his word edgy. "_Why?" _

The man blinked. "Because I want to. Is there a problem with that? Do Easterners not cook? I'll tell you now," the smirk spread across his features, "in Central, we tend to actually make our own food."

Well. That answered his question. Normality it was, then. "Easterners cook," he defended, "jus haven't been around families to eat home-cooked meals, is all. You know, with that one _war_ that's going on."

Onyx eyes averted a golden gaze as the older man went back to making dinner.

"Why have you not turned me in? Why did you help me? Fuck, why am I not _dead_ yet?" Ed shot off, his questions running at rapid-fire.

Roy stopped again, but didn't look at Edward. "I didn't feel like turning you in."

"That's a shit excuse and you know it. What, you think you'll get some sort of information outta me? Let me tell you: you caught me off-guard earlier, but don't expect it to happen again. I fucking hate Centralists. There's a reason why I'm with the Eastern army. I owe you nothing."

"You owe me your life," Roy shot back, "I saved your dumb ass and patched you up. You weren't complaining back when you were in so much pain you couldn't think straight, now were you?"

"My life means _nothing._ What the _fuck_ could my life be worth to you, Roy, huh? The information I know? Well, now that you know you are not getting it, what am I worth then, huh? I can tell you right now: I'm not even worth the shit you are so busy trying to make to sustain your life! The only thing I'm worth is a fucking ticket to the goddammed Gate and, even then, not enough to trade for another soul! If the world runs on some sort of concept of equality, then I'm a second-class citizen in a first-class world." The truth started to tumble from him, and Ed knew he was saying far too much. He had _just _told Roy he would give him any information, and there he went, losing his cap again and spilling his secrets. Ed shut his mouth, but it seemed that the words that couldn't exit there found a place to pool in his eyes. Now he was _crying_? Was he some sort of fucking hormonal teenage kid with no grip on his emotions?

"Edward…" the older man's voice had softened considerably. It was odd, how he could be so infuriating one moment and then the next…

Ed felt a large hand clamp down on his flesh shoulder. He hadn't even realized the colonel had moved until he looked up –shit, he hadn't even realized he had looked _down_. "Edward…"

"I fucking hate you, you goddammed bastard. Leave me the fuck alone. You don't know." He tried to lace his voice with venom, but he had the feeling it just made him look stupid in the end.

"Listen to me, Edward, and I will tell you something. I don't believe in this war. Not in our enemy's so-called malice, and not in our own reason for starting the conflict. I won't go to the battlefield willingly because I don't think it's a just cause to fight. In fact, the higher-ups here have given no clear reason – just that the East is a threat that must be eliminated. From what you are saying, it sounds like this whole war is over a bunch of knowledge we lack and want, and that is no reason," Roy shook his head, anger accenting the action, "I saved you because, when it comes down to it, you are a man, a human, and no one deserves to die just because of want. Of knowledge."

"So you've spared me because you are a self-righteous bastard? You do realize I was _fucking_ trying to blow up your fucking headquarters? What do you have to say to that?" Ed's eyes burned with fire behind the watry front, which was slowly receding away from the borders of his eyelids.

"You were trying to do it when no one was there. You weren't prepared to kill anyone, except maybe yourself."

"It's still an act of terrorism. Doesn't matter that nobody would've gotten hurt! I was still going to turn the tides! Help us win! Don't you see?"

"What difference does it make, Edward, hmm? You tell me. You haven't killed anyone, have you? While I may have, I plan on not doing so any longer."

"I HAVE FUCKING KILLED!" Ed yelled at the top of his lungs. He couldn't take this. What the fuck was up with this guy and his head games? He hadn't TOLD the man how Al had dissapered. _Why_ was it like he already _knew?_ "FUCK YOU, and FUCK THIS. I'm OUTTA here!" The blonde turned on his heel and walked through the living room to the door. His hand was on the knob when a larger body loomed over him, blocking his way and firmly keeping the door from opening at all. "Fucking let me go, you dipshit! Let me GO!" he snarled, "It's none of your business, damn you! Get away!"

Roy looked down at him. "If you go out there, you'll end up being hanged in the best case scenario. Don't you want to find your brother?"

"You don't understand… my brother is dead because of me," his fighting energy started to die away and those damn tears were threatening him again.

"How, Edward? Tell me."

Ed looked to the colonel. Thought about it. "No."

A frown spread across his features. "You can tell me. It's not like-"

"It doesn't matter what it's not like! I don't even _know_ you, fuck, I met you yesterday! I don't have to tell you my fucking life story just because you helped me. Just let me go, and I'll be on my way. You won't have to deal with me anymore."

Roy watched Ed for a moment, and then opened the door for the blonde. "Don't get caught out there."

"I won't," was Ed's only reply as he walked out the door. He didn't stop; wouldn't look back, even as the security fled his mind.

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Two days later left Ed outside of Central in a warehouse with one blonde mechanic checking over his stitches.

"They look pretty-okay to me, Ed. You said a _centralist_ did this for you?"

"Yeah," he winced as Winry prodded at the area, which was healing nicely, "Colonel Roy Mustang. Have to make sure we don't blow him sky-high tomorrow."

"Edward! You mean you are going to try again so soon? What are you, stupid?" She wacked him over the head, "What the hell's wrong with you? Do you have a death wish? What about bringing Al back, huh?"

Ed shot a glare at her. "You don't have to hit me. This is part of the plan to get Al, remember? I have to experiment with the Gate to figure out how to get him back. Either that, or we have to win this war, and going through with this plan will make it happen."

"Ed," Winry said firmly, "if you get caught or killed, then Al will never be able to come back. No one else can do this but you."

"….then I won't get caught." Ed's gaze held a finality that hadn't been there since Al first disappeared.

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**Oooohhh... Stage, set!**

**Please, please review! Review and I will update faster! I live off of reviews!  
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	5. Chapter 5

**It's late, I know! I'm so sorry! I promised an early update and instead gave a late one! But... I have a partially good reason... Pokemon Black was released. I was stuck in Unova with new pokemon to lean! (and still am :D ) And, for anybody who has played it, I LOVE Cheren and N! I could so ship them with the female charrie... But that's a whole other fandom... and I swear, if I wrote them, they would be little oneshots that WOULD NOT disrupt Sparks' updates! **

**And I have some bad news for you/good news for me. I am NOT being a loser this Spring Break and staying at home. I am going to Montana for a while~ So odds are we'll be looking at the next update being two weeks from last Saturday (the 12th). Even worse for you, is I decided to be a ...meanie... and leave this of a bit of a cliffie. So if you absolutely cannot stand cliffhangers, I suggest you wait until next update to read! and... -legasp- there is NO EdxRoy action in the chap... just both viewpoints! But this one is very important, because it runs on some theories that play a role in the oncoming plot!  
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**I apologize in advance for any errors in grammer. It's quite late and I'm really pushing it to put this chapter up now before I leave Tuesday (which is... oh shit, tomorrow).**

**And lastly, before the disclaimer, I have to THANK all of my wonderful reviewers and followers who faithfully read my recorded madness. You guys are the reason why Sparks is here, the reason why my muse hasn't died yet, and the reason why I will push myself to pump out these chapters for you! Thank you so much, and keep the feedback coming!**

**DISCLAIMER: Fullmetal Alchemist doesn't belong to me. Come on, if it did, do you REALLY believe it would be lacking in RoyEd luff? Think about it!**

**On with the reading!**

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Sparks Fly in the Dark  
Chapter Five

Even from in the office, Roy Mustang and his team could hear the snare as it ripped out its cadence from the parade ground. The colonel looked up from his paperwork at the sound, and Hawkeye (who had been "overseeing" Roy with her hand at her holster) walked to the window behind him.

"Sounds like an execution, Sir. Must be important if they are summoning all of us to the parade grounds." Her red eyes flicked to his unfinished work. "I suppose you will have to finish that later, won't you?"

Roy nodded and stood, stretching lightly as he did so. While it was always a good thing to get out of paperwork, an execution was no joyous reason. The Central military would have had to catch someone _really_ important or some huge conspiracy, to have a public execution. The man, whoever he was, was about to be sentenced before all of the Amestris military personnel available. And he was to be put to death by hanging. Needless to say, Roy was not jealous in the least of the man.

But as to _who_ it was… that bothered him. He hadn't been informed of any prisoners to be executed, so did that mean it was a traitor? No, surely word would have reached him if that where the case… Roy made his way to the appointed grounds without further ado, his subordinates falling in step behind him.

The snare intensified as he walked outside and moved to take his place in formation. There was a general babble from those who had already assembled, and Roy could catch snippets of phrases.

"…I heard.."

"…Rebel! You mean he's the…?"

"…a bit short…"

When he reached his appointed slot near the front of the congregating mass, Roy looked up to the platform. It was wooden, and created in an untraditional way. The pillar meant to hold the condemned did not hang over a trap door. Instead, the person being hanged was to stand on a wooden board that jutted out from the platform, one half on the stage, one half in the air. A military officer, chosen by the Fuhrer himself, stood on the other end of the plank, keeping it in place. On orders, the officer would step off his side of the plank, and the condemned would fall with the plank to death, normally by a broken neck.

It certainly wasn't the brave way to go. Those who's necks didn't snap (and it happened on occasion), were left to scream the last bit of air out of their lungs. Roy was willing to bet, with a sick lurch of his stomach, that some of the higher-ups _enjoyed_ watching this affair, and so had chosen hanging over the firing squad as the preferred method of public execution.

The snare's pattern suddenly crescendoed into a steady roll, and the gathered Central army fell silent. On the platform, the beefy figure of Fuhrer Bradley stood tall and firm, smiling out to his subordinates with unrestrained glee.

"My fellow warriors!" he addressed them, reaching his hands out to gesture to them all warmly, "Today, we shall witness a new dawn! Today we shall see a new beginning! But, more than anything, today we shall see an ending! The end, absolute and without a doubt, of this war!" he paused to allow the cheers to simmer down. "Yes, with this execution, I believe we can safely say that the Eastern rebels have been defeated!"

Again, cheers rang out. Roy kept quiet, trying to discern the situation.

"Why do we believe they will give in so quickly? Because we have caught their passion! We have caught their emblem! We have caught their very heart and soul, their very _symbol_ of revolution! Yes, we have caught the Fullmetal Rebel!" Hoarse cries of celebration echoed out. Surely all of Amestris could hear them. Surely Roy had lost his hearing.

Bradley turned his head, signaling the guards bring forward the unseen Rebel. Slowly they made their way forward, and, when in front of the crowd, waited for cheers to silence. The condemned had a sack over his head, but from what could be seen, the man was rather short…

"Show them the face of their enemy!" Bradley cried, and the guards ripped off the sack.

Roy stopped himself short from leaping up onto the stage when he saw Edward up there, fully revealed before all to see, golden eyes still blaring defiance in full volume.

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How in the bloody hell had Ed managed to land himself in this mess? If he could move, he'd pace back and forth, swearing as he reviewed his plans, trying to figure out when he had made that fatal mistake.

Maybe the whole plan had been a mistake. Maybe Winry had been right…

But, he argued with himself, everything had seemed to run so smoothly! He had entered the West wing of Central Command in the dead of night, creeping his way to the center of the structure. It had been childsplay… maybe even too easy, to get there. No guard was to be found.

Quietly he had cut his finger and drew the loopy patterns on the main pillar. Wordlessly, he activated it.

This time when he reached the Gate, he had a plan. Firstly, he would not, _would not,_ think about Al. Not this time… and if he failed, he couldn't do it next time. There was no time to wallow in the past if he were to see his brother in the future. And Ed had to accept that it would be _in the future_ when he saw Al. This, his plans, had to be carried out first without his memory bogging Ed down. Secondly, there would be no talking to the Gate. Oh no. This time, there would only be action. No time for it's voice to pick him apart and flay his emotions.

And this would be as much of a test run as a real plan. Ed had a theory. The Gate was a… well, a _gate._ More namely, a doorway that held _something_ behind its threshold, and from what he had gathered, the majority of what was on the other side was pure, untainted energy. Energy that was released whenever the Gate opened itself…. So who was to say it wouldn't when Ed _forced _it open?

It could be dangerous, Ed knew. Undirected energy, in any form, could destroy anything it touched. He could be shredded in a second, his remains spread out across the limbo that was the Gate's world. But, he was betting, that the energy would be looking for a target. Normally, that target was him, as the Gate always unleashed its powers upon him in retribution. However, not all of that force got to him. Some of it went straight to the remnants of the passageway left to Amestris behind him. The energy always forced it open, and rushed through to dissipate into the material world. Ed was willing to (quite literally) bet his life that if the Gate had no time to direct any of its energy, then it would _all_ go straight to Amestris, effectively blowing the Headquarters sky-high while he escaped without a scratch.

So he did it. And, _boy_, was that bastard pile of stones surprised.

Possibly the best part of the excursion, though, was that the Gate never had a chance to open its stony eyes and look at him with unspoken scorn. Ancient voice never filled his ears with condescending 'humans' or 'mortals' or 'childs.' It was all touch and go.

With his own blood fresh on his hands, Ed had pried the Gate open, and was simply exhilarated.

The power that flooded by him was nothing short of glorious. It never touched him, instead doing exactly as expected and creating its own portal to Amestris from the remnants of his own, tracing his old path back to the building he had left moments before.

It would all be ash when he returned. It would all be wonderful. Victory would lie in the gray remnants of decades of work brought together through blood and war only to be disintegrated by a pure force that knew nothing of violence.

_This_ was the secret of the Gate. It had to be.

After a moment, he closed the Gate and briefly wondered why it hadn't woken and tried to stop him? Shit, why hadn't it spoken, at least? But he wasn't going to question his good fortunes. Instead, he had to get out of there as soon as he could, before the Gate _did_ wake up. Quietly, he followed the last snaps of energy back to Amestris, reaching out to touch the distorted air of the portal.

It wasn't until then that he heard a childish giggle from behind him. With one foot through the portal, he could tell from the pulling sensation there was no going back. Didn't stop him from turning his head. There, behind Edward, _wasn't_ the Gate. It was gone. Rather, in its place was a child draped in shadow sitting atop a monstrous book, much larger in width than the Gate had ever been.

The figure swung its legs back and forth and continued to giggle at him. At the sight, Ed tried to delay the inevitable by turning his top half completely around and pulled backwards. All it would do is buy him a few seconds. All the while, his eyes never left the child.

Suddenly, the creature fell both still and silent. Just before Ed slipped completely through the portal, he heard it speak in a voice that held not only the innocence of a child, but the gravity of a seasoned warrior, the light soprano of a woman and the heavy baritone of a man, as powerful as a rumbling waterfall, yet as gentle as a lullaby murmured to a newborn. It seemed as old as time itself, yet as new as that very instant in which it spoke.

"You poor child. Why must you play with Fate?'Tis a shame you cannot see what is in store for you, for then you would not seek to push us so… Such a strong will…"

And then he was back, dazed and oddly uninjured, yet somehow more knowledgeable than before. And, he gathered as he looked around, a failure. Again. The building still stood. What was more, was that he was about to be in some deep shit, because he could hear the sounds of soldiers walking about the building. It had to be in the middle of the day.

Edward darted down a corner and spotted a door to what he hoped was a closet. With the sounds growing closer, he frantically threw open the door and slipped inside, shutting it behind him and enclosing himself in darkness. The footsteps and accompanying voices grew louder as the soldiers came, and passed by. With a sigh, he plopped himself down, regretting the action as his arm hit against a wooden pole. Fucking broom. Or mop. Whatever.

The question at hand was _how in the motherfucking hell had the headquarters withstood the bombardment he had sent burrowing its way?_ And _how_ was it daytime already when he had only been gone a mere few minutes?

He sat for a while, pondering his flaws and eventually came up with a semi-explanation. At least, one that would work until he could confirm it.

He had delayed the passage to Amestris by turning to look at the child. Ed knew there was a moment in time when going to the Gate that he was neither in Amestris or that void, a time when everything spun and he was pushed and pulled along… It had to be some sort of in-between place, one that dealt with spacial dimensions and, quite possibly, given the current situation, time spans. Ed suspected that the energy had to have broken off and fractured in the trans-state while he delayed the completion of the transportation. Somehow, it had to have diverged from the time he had come from, and guided him to the time he was in now.

Now, the question was whether he was in the future or in the past… and by how much time was he off?

Fuck. On top of all that, how was he supposed to _get out of the closet without being caught?_

He waited a moment before hesitantly opening the door, golden eyes staring out into the empty, well-lit corridor. Better now than later. With a lurch, he was out the confining space and into the open passageway. Ed pressed himself to the wall and inched to the corner. If he could just fucking get outside, then he could track down Winry…

And, oh fuck, there was problem number one. Right off the bat, a military officer spotted him and made his way over. Adorned in the usual blue uniform, he looked like a true military dog.

"Who are you and why are you in Central HQ?"

"I-I'm… Name's Elrwin, sir. Elrwin Alphonse. I was here to speak to the Furher, but I've already done so and now I am on my way out." Ed gave a sloppy salute and mimicked the general stance of a soldier.

"Oh? What did you discuss with him?"

Well fuck. He had to watch what he said; one wrong phrase to disclose he was out of place in fucking _time_ and it'd all be over for him. "I… er.. needed to speak with him about the, uh, war." There had to be war, right? The command building still stood…

"Really now. And you spoke with him today." The soldier's eyes were green, and masked by glasses.

"Yes sir. Got it all taken care of. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"You couldn't have spoken to the Fuhrer, Mr. Alphonse. He's out on the Eastern front, checking the state of matters."

Motherfucking son of a bitch's-

The soldier's name, Ed had learned over the course of the next few days, was Hughes. At least, that was his last name. And he was in Information, which meant that it was his voice that spoke to him in those dark rooms, though it wasn't his hands that drew the knife across his skin or held the screwdriver that dug into his automail to screw with the wiring and send sparks of pain up through his being. In fact, Ed was fairly sure it wasn't even on Hughes' orders that he was tortured for information, but what did he know? He was a prisoner, and one with valuable information.

One who wouldn't talk, even when threatened with death.

He learned that he had only been dropped a mere few days into the future. His leftover array had caused quite a scare, and Hughes was convinced it was Ed who had left it. Despite urgent prompting and bargains on the other man's part, Edward refused to say anything. Not even his real name.

Days went by. Food came with the soldier Hughes, the few times he came, and no other. Ed could feel his muscles break down from lack of nutrition. His voice was hoarse from his own screams from when they tortured him. His body was lined with more scars and fresh welts and cuts. Life became agony until one day, he said one thing that changed it all.

"I'm the Fullmetal fucking Rebel. And I ain't tellin you dipshits anything."

Things had changed after that. Pain was a memory aside from the lingering stab of hunger in his belly. Other voices became a pure silence. It was him, alone, in a room that seemed smaller by the minute.

Until that day they took him out before the whole Central army. They would hang him, publicly, and be done with him.

* * *

**So sorry about the Cliffhanger. Review, or I will leave it like this forever! (...maybe. Review and you won't ever have to find out if I would or not.)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! Raigingstorm here, back from her vacation and... actually pleased with how this chapter came out! This, my readers, has the scene that started it all. I won't say much except I apologize for any mistakes or OoCness... And happy reading!**

**DISCLAIMER: -insert witty way of saying "no" here-  
**

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Sparks Fly in the Dark  
Chapter 6

The snare's steady cadence faltered into a vibrating roll as Edward felt himself be pushed towards the edge of the platform. He listened as the Fuhrer worked to raise the crowd's emotions to a fever pitch, amazed that an army would allow for this much show of emotion, _ever._ The burly man's voice rang out and…. Was that an underlying tone of _glee_? What a sick bastard.

"…and for the extermination," woah, wait. _Extermination?_ Like he was some sort of _bug_? Was that supposed to be some sort of twisted short joke or – "our 'Hero of the People,' will now be decided. Those who wish to volunteer, salute me!"

Ed flinched when the whole crowd saluted, but the Fuhrer seemed only joyous at their enthusiasm. The blonde noticed his eyes snap to a particular figure in the crowd and widen a bit. "My, my, I don't believe it. Colonel Roy Mustang, you _want_ to participate in a public execution? Wonders never cease." His tone had changed. Mocking. But what was more…

The blonde watched a familiar figure nodd and walk forward. "Yes, sir. I wish to wrap up this war myself, if you would so allow me." Golden eyes flashed at the words, but otherwise showed no emotion. So it would be that the man who had worked to keep Ed alive would be the one to kill him. There was an odd irony in that.

The Fuhrer laughed. "Well, I suppose I could allow it, since you seem so willing, Mustang." He stepped aside. "I trust you already know the procedure."

"Yes, Sir." Roy saluted and made his way over to Ed. The younger man watched as the dark-haired man positioned himself on the wooden plank that jutted out from the platform. The crowd gave a cheer. Roy smirked. Ed grit his teeth. "Get on the plank, Eastern scum."

Clenching his bound fists, Edward made his way over, feeling a noose be slid over his neck as he went by a guard. The crowd's cheers became a general roar that he couldn't block out. Centralists were a bunch of fucking sadists. He mustered up the best glare he could and shot it off to gleaming onyx eyes watching him stop himself at the edge of the plank. Venom. He had to give this mother fucker nightmares about this very moment. Anger would be the only emotion Ed would let show, not that terrible sinking defeat he felt deep in his being. Not that bit of betrayal he felt for Roy. Not that drop of relief he felt that _his_ worries were about to end… he'd be with his brother soon enough. He'd see Al again.

After a moment, Edward closed his eyes, and that was when he felt it.

Time slowed down for Ed. Around him, the sounds seemed to fade away, and his focus turned to his feet. Or rather, what his feet stood on. Even through his metal automail foot, he could feel a current, a flow. A gentle pulse, from Ed to the wood and out. And, as if that weren't odd enough, if he really focused, he could _see_, with his mind's eye, a yellow stream glowing softly and reaching out to where the other man stood across from him. What the fucking hell?

* * *

Roy felt it and he knew what he was doing was the right thing. Like some sign from the heavens above (if he could bring himself to believe in such things), the oddest feeling overtook him. It had to be nothing short of magic, for surely it wasn't alchemy. What it was, or at least what it _felt_ like, was a current passing through Edward and himself. Roy literally held the man's life in his own hands, and maybe that was what he was feeling. It wasn't unpleasant, and if it weren't for the crowd noise (which, somehow had seemed to be drowned out a little by the sound of his blood rushing through his ears) Roy would have thought he was dreaming. It was warm, a glow that began in his feet and crawled its way up, slowly growing in intensity.

By the time it reached his torso, the warmth had become uncomfortably hot. While he had restraint enough not to fidget about, he did have to open his eyes. Wait, when had he ever closed them?

The world came rushing back. The warmth faded, leaving him empty and almost wanting for it to return. The crowd noise was unbearably loud, screams and calls for murder. Fuhrer Bradley looked at him disapprovingly, and across the plank from him, Edward had opened his intense honey eyes and looked at him evenly. His hostility was gone. Maybe he had felt it, too?

"Any day now, Colonel." A deafening roar of agreement rose to accompany the military leader's goad. With a nodd to his superior, Roy took a firm step sideways and felt the plank below him wobble. He watched as the blonde gritted his teeth and focused on keeping his balance. He went to move his other foot and then….

* * *

Edward felt himself fall. The plank below him shifted from its once-rigid state to a loose one that had no ties to the platform any longer. And with Ed's weigh pulling it down, it fell, sending him down a few feet before the rope around his neck pulled taunt. This was it. He was really going to die, wasn't he? He was spinning, around and around at a speed dizzying in itself, let alone the actual _motion_. That bastard really just sent him to his death.

Around him, the calls and joyous yells of the Amestrian forces rang out, calling for his end. It would come to them soon enough, Ed was sure.

What seemed like hours passed with just his body swinging around. And no air! How he had never really appreciated air until this very moment! His lungs screamed for it to fill them once – just once! – more. He had long ago shut his eyes against the whirling world, but he was sure if he opened them he would see spots. His thoughts broke off mid-formation. Slowly, he felt himself slip away.

Al.

Then, the rope released its terrible hold upon him and he felt himself fall. Ed hit the ground and gasped in pain and – oh! – sweet air tumbled inwards, renewing his blood flow. When he opened his eyes, spots slowly receded to reveal an astonishing sight before him.

All was in flames. Fire, all-consuming and raging, ate away at everything it touched. How in the fuck?

Dazedly, Edward tried to stand, and almost fell right after. Fuck! Here he was, somehow _alive_ after almost being _hanged_, and now he was in an inferno that threatened to take away the very life he had just managed to keep a hold of. Well, he'd be damned if he was going to be killed by some stupid little flames. Fuck _that_.

Again, he made his way into an upright position. He was going to get out of here and, hopefully, use the fire to his advantage. A dead rebel was good to the Centralists, no matter if he was killed by hanging or flames, right? But… where was that Roy? As a matter of fact, where was _anybody?_ Had they all fled the scene already? Why was no one trying to stop the blaze that threatened to overrun their capitol? Centralists truly were idiots…

Now, to make his escape. To look for a hole in the flames…. There.

A little off to the left, a gap in the flames shimmered. It was fucking hot. Taking a split second to ensure he was steady enough on his feet to make a straight-enough lunge, Ed sprinted forward to his escape.

And ran smack into a body.

A body that wrapped its arm around him, slid downwards to his waist, and plucked him from the ground. With a jolt, he realized it was that bastard Roy. Why was he here? Was he the cause of all this? Why was he dizzy all over again? He wasn't standing, and sure, the air was choked with smoke, but it still felt decent going through him. Roy spun on his heel and navigated through the flames. The older man was _carrying _him! Ed was slung over the man's shoulder like some dead body or something!

That wasn't going to fly. He wasn't some baby, weak as he was. "P-put me down, bastard." Fuck that came out pathetic.

"Shut up and be glad I came back for you," was the growled reply.

Edward bit back a bitter remark and instead clung to the man's shirt as Roy dodged and weaved through the hot waves. They seemed to never end. As soon as it appeared Roy had reached an out, flames seemed to race ahead and trap them once more. After a few desperate minutes or running Roy stopped with a low curse and threw Ed down on the ground.

"Fuck, ouch!" the blonde cried indignantly.

Roy seemed to pay him no mind as he raced about the ground around him, a small white line keeping record of where he had gone. Ed's brow furrowed. What was he-?

Then he saw it. The line was coming from chalk. Roy was chalking out a pattern on the ground, and it was oddly reminiscent of the pattern Ed used to get to the Gate. How had he learned that? Had the Centralists in the dark room really managed to torture the Truth out from him after all? Wouldn't Ed remember dropping such vital information to such a dangerous enemy?

A mere few minutes passed, the fire growing dangerously closer all the while. When Roy finished, he made his way over to Ed and placed his hands down on the ground, pouring his energy down into the earth and the chalked lines. A blue flash rose and a confident smirk spread across his face. Navy light rose from around the edges of the main circle and spread outward, changing the flames to blue and, soon after, dying away leaving charred ground and fading smoke behind.

"H-how… w-what..?" Ed was astonished. Was that the Centralist art of Alchemy? But it was so similar to how Ed got to the Gate!

"I… didn't think that… would work…. But it did…" Roy panted out, a grim grin spread across his face. His body shook. The process had visibly drained him. "I had no idea… and in the end it… it was all right there… Just like when… I started the blaze…"

"Wait. You…? You started the fire?" Ed managed. He was astounded.

"Yeah… I had to do _something_." Roy stood, his frame shaking as he did so. It looked as though he wouldn't stay upright for long. Ed stood and made his way over, ready to help him if need be. Shit, after all that, he owed the man _something_. "I've never done that before," the older man admitted, "but it was exhilarating… Setting alight the blaze was the best I'd ever done with alchemy."

So it _was_ alchemy. "You couldn't before?" Ed questioned, quickly moving his automail arm under the man to support him as he stumbled.

"Thanks," Roy muttered in a low breath, "a bit drained… but, yes, before I couldn't….. however… when the time came on the platform when Bradley's back was turned…"

"_Why?_ Why would you do that for me?" It couldn't be…

"….I know what I felt."

"Then you felt it, too… when I was on the plank…"

A solemn nodd was his response.

"I don't know what that was." Ed looked down at the ground.

"It was the reason I set my flames. Something about it let me do things I never could before." Roy looked around warily. "We need to go before someone comes back. They all fled, though I'm not sure why nobody tried to stop the flames. Once they realize the fire's out, someone's bound to come investigating."

Ed nodded. "I suppose your house isn't safe."

The older man gave a deep sigh. "Once they figure out I set it…."

"I know a place."

Ed led Roy slowly along the allies of Central city, working through areas he knew and avoiding any areas he didn't. Several times they were forced to stop and hide while Amestrian troops made their way by, on the lookout for the duo. It wasn't too terribly a long time before they reached their destination – an old abandoned warehouse.

* * *

**I guess I'm pretty bad about leaving off in odd places ^^" And come on, did you really even think for a SECOND that I'd let my Ed die? No. Next chapter will have a lot of answers to the questions that have been building up in this fic, I promise! **

**PLEASE REVIEW.**

**See you next week!  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! So, another week means another chapter of Sparks! Things are moving fairly now, and this chapter was fun to write! This is another one of those "technical" chappies, but it also gives some much-needed answers... And, because I am simply that kind of author, it raises even MORE questions and moral dilemmas! On top of allll that, it is a bit longer and was written partially during my freetime throughout the week (little that there was -.-) instead of all in one day. So, I hope you all enjoy it very much!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. WHY else would Roy and Ed not have sweet - oh... nevermind.  
**

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Sparks Fly in the Dark  
Chapter Seven

The warehouse was old and abandoned. Normally, it was a place Roy would avoid at all costs. However, due to the circumstances, the structure came as a welcome relief from their fleeing trek through Central. He watched as Edward bade him wait and slipped inside. He was probably checking things out on the inside.

Roy thought about what had happened while waiting in the dim silence. He had decided, almost as soon as he had seen the young man upon the scaffold, that he would do all in his power to rescue him. The conclusion had come to him almost instinctually, and he had no idea how or when it had become that way. It was irrational, and Roy didn't like it. Everything should have a line of logic, right? You felt lust when you were attracted to someone. You felt anger when someone displeased you. You felt protective when you_ knew_ someone, but Roy hardly knew Ed at all! From that first day in the tavern _something_ had blossomed inside of him; some intense desire to touch, to irritate, to be around Edward.

This petty, hidden weed of an emotion caused him to volunteer himself to play executioner. When the doubts played out in his mind, they had come from a part of him that was unsure about the _world_, let alone what he was planning on doing. They were soon eradicated by that odd sensation between them when they stood on the board together, anyway. Speaking of which, Roy still had no clue what _that_ was. It was highly irrational as well. When he was ordered to, he had quieted his screaming conscious, stepped off the board, and let Ed fall. When the Fuhrer's back was turned, without thinking he had snatched out his worn piece of chalk and knelt to sketch out an alchemy circle. What was more, was that after the first initial runes for fire were chalked out, he didn't know what he was writing yet there was his hand, moving and crafting equations he had never seen before as if they had always done so. When the circle was done, he somehow knew to place his hands in _those_ particular spots to activate it.

And when he did, the energy flew forth and out burst the hungry inferno.

The power had been exhilarating. The fire had been overwhelming. The panic had been… strangely amusing.

The blaze quickly overtook the platform, but it didn't stop there. Orange short out in different, erratic directions as different equations in the circle lit up. The army had broken rank quickly when Bradley jumped away in shock. Roy stood, unharmed and eyes wide in disbelief. _H-he_ did that?

That alchemy was the strongest ever seen. Water alchemy made a small drizzle, nothing that could combat the flames. Fire alchemy was only enough to light a candle and maybe burn someone to the second degree before it fizzled out. Transmutation alchemy itself had only advanced to polishing rocks or drawing out a pure metal from an alloy (and even that was insanely draining and complex). Nothing like this had ever been before!

Maybe it was no wonder they had all run. They best they could do was bring in the volunteer firemen with their new fire engines to try and douse the flames.

"Mustang." Ed's voice snapped him to attention. The blonde beckoned him over and into the warehouse.

Inside, it was bitterly cold and the air seemed heavy with moisture. It was like walking in freezing water without getting drenched. Roy shivered violently and wished he had grabbed him heavy black overcoat earlier. Then again, earlier he had been running for his life and before that, he had been trudging along to a public hanging.

However… he knew Edward was worse off. While in confinement, he had been forced to give up his tight leather pants in exchange for some loose, thin blue pants. Over his chest sat his original black tank, but nothing more. His captors had given him his boots for the execution (Roy figured it was a kindness on Hughes' part, since he was that sort of guy), but Roy was sure the younger man had no socks.

Roy removed his stiff blue coat. At least he had his long-sleeve white shirt under it. Quick, easy steps brought him before Edward, who looked at him with wary golden eyes. The raven-haired man quietly placed the large coat over the blonde's bare shoulders which, at a confirming glance, were covered in goosebumps that probably cascaded down the flesh arm.

Edward looked at him in shock, like he couldn't believe Roy was doing _more_ to help him. After a moment he sputtered out a "Thank you…" and began rummaging around the building.

Around them, boxes lined the walls, though judging by the way they moved to and fro from the draft, Roy was willing to bet they were empty. Puddles of what was once liquid water had frozen over to ice in spots below holes in the ceiling. It if rained like the overcast sky about predicted, they would not remain dry. It was evening and the oncoming loss of light would bring the temperature down more and make hypothermia a very real threat.

Could Roy build a fire? No, the smoke would be obvious to anyone on the lookout for them, and he was unsure of his ability to control any flame of his creation anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was burn down their current "safehouse" or burn himself and Ed to a crisp.

"Here." Roy looked at Ed, who was holding out one of two tarps he had found. "Looks like we're out of luck as far as food goes. Since we are both wanted men, all of Central will be on the lookout for us… though they may actually think I'm dead, who knows? The best we can do is try to make it to Freiheit by tomorrow evening." Edward stared at him evenly. "We should be welcomed there… at the very least, we should be able to get some food."

Roy nodded, took the make-shift blanket, and down on the harsh concrete. If the cold or another soldier didn't kill him, he could still be slaughtered by Easterners, regardless of whose life he had saved. That was not appealing.

The colonel turned his gaze once more to the blonde as he moved to sit down a few feet away.

"…Why did you save me?" the question was shot our suddenly.

"I told you. Didn't you feel t—"

"No, I don't mean that. The first time. Why did you save my sorry ass the first time? And don't fucking give me any of that self-righteous shit about how I'm a human and whatnot. You had another reason."

Roy sighed. He should have figured this was coming. "At first it was because I didn't know whether you were a Centralist of not. Then, when I figured it out, it was to try to get information out of you."

"Then why didn't you kill me or turn me in when I told you flat-out that I wasn't tellin' you anything?"

Damn, he'd followed Roy right to that, hadn't he? "Then, it was because I didn't want to. Simple as that."

Ed glared at him. "There has to be a reason why."

"There is, and I just told you it."

"You ass. A _real_ reason."

Roy mustered up a glare in return. He couldn't very well tell him the true reason, now could he? "That's why and I'm not backing down from it."

"You bastard!" Ed stood suddenly, letting the tarp and the military jacket fall to the floor. "I want answers! Every time I see you, you act stranger and stranger. What the fuck is wrong with you? You're a goddamned Centralist! You are supposed to kill me on sight, not save my _life_! I don't understand you. You don't know me and you are always helping me. You just got yourself exiled and prolonged this war to keep me alive!"

His words were sharp, biting into Roy, but they struck home. The older man stood, his face darkening as he took the few steps over to where the younger stood. He left no space between them, and he could feel the blonde's breath hitch. "The truth is," he began in a low voice that seeped with some sort of emotion he didn't want to have, "I don't know _why_ I did it. I've always had a method before, a way to solve things efficiently and so I always come out on top. But with you… it's all whimsical."

And slowly, Roy brought his face down to Ed's, hovering just above his lips for a mere second before pushing down and kissing the blonde.

Again, he didn't understand _why_ or _where_ this has all come from, but the moment the heat began passing through their bodies, Roy knew: this was somehow _right_.

* * *

Ed was shocked beyond belief when he felt Roy kiss him. So shocked, all he could do was stand there, frozen, suspended in time as the older man gently pressed his lips to Ed's. He let himself go, pressing up to Roy urgently, filled with more desire than he could handle. He wrapped his arms up around the taller man's neck to deepen the connection. He could feel Roy's hands move down and wrap around his waist.

Then, Roy pulled away, wanton shining in his eyes as he looked down at Ed. Fuck, that had felt good. And Ed wanted _more_.

He could feel heat pile at his face as he pushed up and brushed softly against Roy's lips again and then pulled away out of his grasp completely. What was he _doing?_ They were both wanted felons in this fucking city, and they hardly knew each other! Besides, Ed had no time for… for… _this_. Al had to be his priority… right?

"Ed…" Roy began.

"Shut the fuck up," he interjected, "I can't… can't… no. This.. we… I don't even fucking know you!" Angrily, he turned and made his way to the other side of the warehouse. Why the fuck… why the fuck was he stuck with some hopeless fucking _fool_? But, more pressing, why was he _so utterly _confused? Roy was a man, for Gate's sake! Why did he _enjoy_ that? Why did he want more? Why were the onyx eyes, even now, making him shiver even though his back was turned?

Ed threw himself to the floor and covered himself with the tarp. Whatever. As soon as they reached Freiheit, Ed could ditch the man and go on about his life. All he had to do was sleep through the fucking night and make it across the barren wasteland between Central and Freiheit off to the west. It would be a long trek, but they could make it by sundown the next day if they didn't stop for anything. And if Ed could have his way, he wouldn't be speaking to the man to stop.

It was better this way, he tried to convince himself. If one kiss from Roy had him questioning everything… there was no way he could… Fuck. He caught himself staring at the man now sitting and working on crafting a small chalk circle on the ground. What was he… alchemy?

"What are you _doing?_" Ed asked before he could stop himself.

"Making a fire." The older man didn't look up, and he looked like he was having issues concentrating.

"…Why's it look so hard for you?"

"Because… I'm trying to make sure I don't burn down the warehouse on accident." Another line went down.

"Aren't you supposed to be able to control that shit?"

"Did you not see the fire I made earlier?"

"You also brought it down when we were farther out," Ed pressed. "So why?"

When the man stayed silent Ed felt his anger rise again. "God damn you, I asked _why?_"

"_Because_," Roy hissed in exchange, "my alchemy has been all sorts of unpredictable and powerful since we were on the board! I don't know what it will and won't do anymore."

Curiosity overtook his caution towards Roy, and Ed stood up to move closer and observe. He watched as Roy's bent frame moved to and fro, muscles flexing under the thin white shirt… and the circle continuously became more and more complex and variant. "So… what does it mean?"

Roy looked up at him, surprised to find him so close again. "Well… the main circle keeps the energy contained. It's a binging agent. The outermost ruins translate roughly to '_a spark to let it burn'_ which is the basic command for any fire alchemy. At least, it's all we know works. Our fire alchemy isn't very strong. None of it is. Just… somehow… I know how to do this now. I mean, once you get past the second ring and the initial hexagon there," he gestured to the parts he spoke of, "the rest I'm writing by some sort of crazy instinct. Random guesses in alchemy never work, so I don't really understand how I can do this all of a sudden."

Ed's eyes flashed as they watched Roy chalk out a very familiar fractal in the center. "And you say you couldn't do this before today?"

"Not before that moment we stood on the board." Finished, Roy looked up to Ed. "Why, what's wrong?"

"That last design…. That's one of the ones you _don't_ know?"

"Yes, that's what I said, wasn't it?"

"Bastard. I'm asking because it's a part of the design to get to the Gate." Ed stared at the pattern and looked it over. "You don't know it and yet there it is, flawless. Now how…"

Quietly, he walked to the opposite side of the circle. Touched it lightly with his automail hand. "How do you activate it?"

"Place your hands here and," Roy used his hands to guide Ed's to the proper places and the blonde felt a blush rise gently on his face. Choosing to ignore it, he put his hands to the ground where Roy had placed them over, focusing his energy as he did when he tried to get to the Gate.

Under his flesh hand, Edward felt the power move from his body into the circle. He watches as runes lit up and then the lines soon after, all of it glowing with a mystical light that seemed so earthreal. After a few seconds the central design – the Gate fractal – began to fizz with power and a bright flash lit the room before a fire bloomed there on the floor, shedding its light and warmth, yet unsustained by any other means but a flow of oxygen.

There was no other way… the fractal had to be directly tapping into the Gate's power, drawing it out into the real world to feed the fire. If it didn't, the fire would have just been a spark and died away after maybe a second of life. It was one of the oddest things Ed has ever seen.

"You can do alchemy, too." Roy said softly.

"Ed stayed silent and appreciated the warmth as it worked to drive away the chill in his bones. "Guess so."

"Not everyone can do it… then again, most see it as a waste of time. Researchers have worked on it for hundreds of years and we never really got anywhere with it. Not until now, anyways, and I don't even kno—"

"What if, during that time I was on the scaffold, some of the Gate's residue reached out to you?"

Roy blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You know about the Gate right? I mean, come on, the whole point of this war is to expand your knowledge on what we know about it, so you've gotta know at least a little bit."

Roy nodded in response.

"Good. Well, I've been to the Gate plenty of times. I've been working towards a goal I've got to reach, so it's important I do this. But each time I go, something goes wrong and the piece of shit tosses me out. It's actually the reason why I've got automail limbs." Ed glanced to his metal arm, which he moved around a bit to emphasize. "Last time… the time that I got caught by your fucking military, something different happened. I escaped without a scratch and some huge blast of energy blew right by me. And the Gate… when I turned around, it wasn't a Gate anymore. It was some kid sitting on a monstrous book. I think it did something to me, and that something passed on to you."

Edward watched as Roy took the information in. "You _changed_ the Gate?"

"I guess. At least, that's what it seems like. I don't really know. I'd have to go back to find out for sure." Ed shook his head, "but anyhow—"

"Hold on," Roy interjected, "I've got a deal. How about I teach you what I know about alchemy in exchange for your help in my learning about the Gate?"

"W-why? The whole WAR started because people couldn't come to an agreement like this!" Ed's eyes widened in shock.

"My point exactly."

"And what are you gonna do with what I tell you?"

"We," he smirked, "are gonna stop one stupid-ass conflict."

* * *

**Haha, things are getting interesting, no?**

**And... that was... my first kissy scene... like actually describing the kissy stuff... ever... and if it sucks it's only because it's going off what I've read! *Magic hand swipes off the bashful blush***

**So... Please, please, PLEASE review! I'm DYING here! The last chapter only got 3 reviews and it makes me a little sad... I mean, I adore the feedback I am getting, but is it too much to ask for more? Yes, no?**

**Until next week.  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh Gawd. So, not only is this chapter super-late, but it is also super-short in comparison to the other ones. I am so very sorry for that, but I promised to update this week and so I have.  
But... While it IS short.. it was very fun to write. **

**There's not much else to say. The next update will not be until May 29-ish, but don't be surprised if I post some random Oneshots for you guys. Or maybe I'll get an update in earlier. Who knows?**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own FMA. Wouldn't that be fun, though, if I did? All the RoyEd fans would love me so.  
**

* * *

Sparks Fly in the Dark  
Chapter Eight

That night, the blonde invaded his sleep.

_Roy is standing, looking out over a battlefield. Guns roar, blood pours, and adrenalin flows. The Eastern forces are being battered back without a hitch. Roy would be commended for such a marvelous victory. Maybe even promoted…_

_He scans his eyes across the scene, taking in the full sight of the violence. Sure, he didn't like it, but once he was Fuhrer, there'd be no more war. He'd take care of the problem. Though, upon deeper reflection, he can't remember exactly why he's so hell-bent on stopping the war. Of course, the whole thing was bogus, but it just seemed to him that there was a more prominent reason… one that was more pressing than the others he could come up with. Now why was that?_

_With a shrug he moves into the throng, drawing his gun to shoot a nearby rebel. A bang resounds, the man is dead, and he moves on. Death is but one part of war, he has learned, and he cannot stop to mourn his deeds lest he be killed. Another shot, another life. _

_He's aware of the enemy's numbers dwindling. Surely they can't last too much longer…?_

_And then he sees it. The reason._

_Golden eyes catch his gaze in a wave of crimson blood. Edward stands there, no, __**there**__! Not even a mere few inches away from the barrel of Roy's gun. The blonde stands firm, defiance in his eyes. He is unarmed, but his expression is far more powerful than any weapon. _

"_Edward…" Roy says softly... Too softly. Surely Ed couldn't have heard him over the roar of the battle?_

"_Come with me, Roy." It's the first time he's heard the blonde speak his first name."Leave this place. You don't fucking belong here anyways. Lower your gun and come with me…"_

_Roy can only stare. The shorter man wants Roy to go with him? The decision isn't hard. The gun falls to the blood-soaked ground with a loud clatter and Roy slowly reaches his hand forward to touch Ed –_

_Only to pass right through him as the world dissolves. Now, rain falls steady and fast. He's alone in some dark place or another. But… if he strains his ears…_

"_Get your fucking-_

-lazy ass up, dipshit! You're gonna f-fucking freeze to death!" Ed's face hung about a foot away from Roy's, lit up softly by a flash of lightning before the darkness of the warehouse returned.

"I'm u—" and then the cold slapped him. "S-shit!"

"At least you're not dead." In the dark, Roy could hear the odd tone the words had been said in. He felt Ed move away and kept himself from hissing when the full extent of the temperature rained down on him. Where was the fire…?

At some point during the night, rain had pattered through the holes in the roof and bounced off the surroundings to kill the flame. At least, that was what Roy was willing to figure. It made sense, anyways. However, now it was too dark to attempt to light a new flame. He wasn't willing to risk killing both himself and Ed because he screwed up the circle somehow. But how were they supposed to keep warm?

Edward, apparently had been wondering the same thing, because he spoke Roy's very thoughts aloud. And then, he could hear the scowl on the blonde's face as the sensation of body heat bouncing back at him returned. What was he—

"Shut the fuck up and don't say a single thing about this later or I swear to Gate I will f-fucking kill your dumb ass, am I clear?" Edward paused in his threat. "Body heat is the only f-fucking way we are gonna s-stay warm and survive this night."

Roy frowned in the dark and hummed an agreement as he felt Edward tentatively press into him. It wasn't the warmest of situations, but the blonde's body heat helped to at least combat the chill, and Roy was sure his own body heat would at least help Edward a little. But…

"You know…" he spoke quietly, "skin contact works best."

"Sh-shut up! Y-you can fuck off if you think I'm doing this _naked! _ Are you mentally retarded or something?"

"I figured as much." Why had he even mentioned it? Why had he even thought about it? If he thought about it, there was this pull… Roy shoved it away and rested his head against Ed's… shoulders? At least, that was what Roy was willing to bet they were, from the outline.

"T-the shit are you doing?" came the hissed reaction.

"Trying to get comfortable, that's what."

"O-oh…" the blonde's muscles tensed against him. That just wouldn't work…

"Relax. How are we supposed to sleep otherwise?" he murmured gently. It sounded almost… affectionate. He hadn't even realized he was speaking until the words were out and now that they were, they rang with a sense of caring, almost sensuality. He hadn't meant that at all. Roy had surprised himself, for sure. However, what surprised him even more was that the blonde actually listened to him and allowed his body to go slack and lean against Roy with his full weight.

"I suppose you're right," Ed mumbled.

The raven's smirk was lost to the darkness. Of course he was right.

Another problem soon presented itself; Roy was sitting against nothing but chilly, damp air. With a sigh, he shifted around a little to alert the blonde. The last thing he needed was for the younger man to punch him or worse… "I either need a wall, or I'm using the floor."

When a quiet "mmf" was all he got in reply, Roy decided for the both of them and laid back, wrapping his arms around the sleeping blonde to keep him from falling. He lay there for a while, awake, reveling in the sensation of the warm weight atop his chest and the stark contrast of the chill around him. Roy knew he'd probably wake to some sort of physical pain when Edward woke up, but seeing as how the current position put a rest to the ever-gnawing wanton need inside of him, he really couldn't bring himself to spare it more than a passing thought in his sleep-fogged mind.

Somehow, drifting off had never been more comforting…

* * *

The first thing Ed was aware of was that the majority of him was _warm_. How could that be when just a few hours ago he had been freezing his ass off, waking up the bastard to keep them both alive? When he opened his eyes a little, he could see the sunlight drifting lazily in at angles through the patches in the roof. Puddles reflected the light onto the walls and everything was painfully _bright_. So Ed shut his eyes.

The second thing Ed was aware of was that he wasn't laying on anything particularly hard. There was no way the concrete had become so forgiving. On top of that, if he paid close attention and changed the speed of his breathing from that of sleep, he could feel himself move in an oddly comforting motion up and down… and up and down… It was soothing…

But wait, that was beside the point, wasn't it..?

Ed lifted and turned his head to stare at a pale sleeping face and dark raven hair. Hm, yes, that Mustang was a sexy one. Just for a moment, he allowed himself to watch the sleeping body under him. Then, he gently slid off of Roy and proceeded to splash water on the older man.

"W-wha-?" Brilliant onyx opened and focused as a white shirt became rather transparent…

The blonde couldn't help it. He let his eyes linger on the sight until he caught Roy catching _him_.

Damned pink made its way across his cheeks. He knew he shouldn't have watched, shouldn't have looked at the chiseled chest, each line filled and accented by wet, white shirt. He shouldn't have seen the water quickly spread across the material and give hints to the pale skin under it… Sweet blue tinted onyx eyes as the sunlight hit them and, judging by the amount of amusement Ed found there, he knew there was no playing off the situation. He was caught red-handed.

"You can look if you want to," _damnit! _the smirk was _permeable_! Ed no longer looked at Roy, embarrassment filling his actions and gaze, but he swore he could _touch_ the bastardliness in the air.

"Fuck you." Ed spat defensively, "Get up so we can get the fuck out of here and move on. We have places to go."

The blonde listened (for he refused to look) as he heard Roy stand and pick up the discarded jacket on the floor. "Well, it looks as though I will have to dry my shirt…"

"I don't care," Ed retorted hotly, "as long as we get out of here before someone comes along and catches your useless ass. I don't know if they assumed we burned up in the fire or not, but I'd really rather not find out."

"True," Roy stated simply.

….Okay, it was driving him nuts. He didn't trust the man completely, did he? Ed snuck a glance to satisfy his raising suspicions (or so that was the reason he consoled himself with). The man had succeeded in unbuttoning his shirt and was in the process of removing it when he caught Ed's gaze.

Motherfucking son of a bitch. He was not some fucking _girl_. He was not some horny-ass teenager! He was used to seeing topless men! But _fuck_ if the sight of Mustang before him removing his shirt didn't send blood towards his face and towards something quite a bit lower. It was so. Damn. Sensual…

The colonel smirked before him, slowing his movements deliberately _just_ to fuck with him. Ed clenched his hands at his sides. This bastard was going to be more trouble than he was worth, and what was more was that Ed was going to be stuck with him even after they got to Freiheit because Gate knew if the older man was going to be shot on spot or not if the Fullmetal Rebel wasn't with him at all fucking times.

"I hate you," he hissed to the other man, who was then putting on his jacket and still, _still_, staring at him with this fucking _smoldering _look. And to top it all, Ed felt himself _mesmerized_, unable to look away from the sight. "I really fucking hate you."

With a smirk that just refused to fade away, Roy replied, "That's exactly why you are watching my every move."

Edward tried to kill him with his glare. He really did. Just kill the fucking bastard and then he wouldn't have any more problems.

When the older man didn't drop dead, Ed spun on his heels and walked out of the warehouse, pretending that he didn't care if Roy followed him.

Of course the man followed him.

* * *

**As always, I'm down here to beg for reviews! I LOVE YOU GUYS.**


	9. Chapter 9

**It's... it's a bird! It's a plane! It's... it's... another chapter!**

**Haha, yes, dearies. Yet another installment to my little fic is here, ready for your eyes to peer! I do believe with this chapter, we are officially moving towards the M rating, though we may not actually be there yet. I must... change it anyways because I fear for the deletion of my story over some mis-rated citrus-y writing. ...maybe it's not all that, but it is, at least, fluff on steroids. Yeah... that's it.**

**Anyways! I am pleased with this chapter too. Things are moving along, not only in the plot department, but also in our RoyEd department. Ahaha~ On with the reading!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. *sigh* I'm afraid the rapture really would have happened if I did (XD)**

* * *

Sparks Fly in the Dark  
Chapter Nine

It was hot. It was sweltering. It was combustible.

It was a fucking summer day, late mid-day, in the desert. The sun beat down from overhead, trying its damndest to bake every living thing… including Edward and his newfound central traitor.

After the shirtless fiasco, Ed had done his best to ignore the raven-haired bastard. He spoke to the ex-colonel only when necessary and almost never looked at him. They had pushed past the limits of Central by nine (or so the clock at the gates had told them), and hitched a ride on a passerby train until the lush green grass gave way to dead sand. It was then they leapt off, using nothing but the railway tracks for guidance.

Ed knew where he was going. The pilgrimage from Freiheit to Central and back again was one he had made many times. He knew that, if they pushed it, they could make it to the town by nightfall.

Of course, arriving in the town didn't necessarily guarantee their safety, since it was merely a neutral-set town, not to mention off to the west and therefore in the complete opposite direction of his "side." However, reaching the city would be a large accomplishment and would give them the chance to rest properly and prepare for a journey to East City – the rebel's main stronghold and headquarters.

With a pant, Edward shoved his automail, boot-covered foot into the sand, burning it a few inches before kicking it up, flinging the grit upwards into the air. The skin around his ports was the worst off part of him, burning as hot as (he swore) the sun above them. The heat was collecting in the metal, and the prolonged exposure to such high temperatures would eventually burn him and cause the artificial limbs to malfunction. Normally, when he traveled with Winry and had to make it from point A to B, she would force him to bury both limbs into the cooler sand below the burning surface to relieve some heat. But Winry wasn't here because she thought he was dead (and she'd probably kill him once she found out otherwise) and he and Roy had to reach their destination by the end of the day. Without food and. More importantly, water, they would not last another day. They had no choice but to continue moving, and for Ed to suffer in the miserable heat.

"Shouldn't we stop for a break?" Roy questioned, with shirt plastered to his skin once more. Sweat coated him, much like it did Ed. The other man's uniform pants were rolled up, his jacket slung over his shoulder and his long sleeves torn off and discarded. His voice cracked from both lack of use and lack of moisture. He was dehydrating.

Ed shook his head in reply. "No. If we stop, we won't start again." Not an entirely true statement, since Ed was sure he could bring himself to continue walking if he _just_ had a chance to cool down the searing metal attached to his body, but he didn't feel like telling Roy that. "Damn, I wish we had some water," he complained.

Onyx eyes shot a deadly glare his way. "I told you we should have gotten provisions."

"Oh shut up, you fucking dick. _You_ wanted to waltz into a store so every-fucking-body could see you and know who you are and what you are not and what you would have been – dead! You would have blown what little cover we actually have!"

"Well, you have to admit leaving without anything to sustain us in a desert was awfully short-sighted of you."

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING SHORT? I'M GOING TO TEAR YOUR GODDAMNED LEGS OFF, YOU BASTARD!" Ed made a frantic lunge for the taller man, his eyesight spotted with red rage. Roy easily side-stepped him, and the blonde landed face-first into the hot sand below. The colonel did hiss, however, when Ed's automail arm brushed against his bare one.

"Fuck, that was hot! Was that your arm?"

"Whaddya fucking think?" Ed yelled indignantly from his sprawled-out position on the ground. Ouch, ouch, hot sand. Smoldering sand. "They're made of metal!"

Roy looked down at him, face expressionless, but concern swimming in his eyes. "Isn't there a way to cool it down?"

The blonde stood, brushing the sand from him and gritting his teeth. "Yes, but it includes stopping. Which we are not doing, I'll have you know."

Roy rolled his eyes as Ed growled, "Let's get a move on bastard. I want to get there before we die," before setting off again, stumbling lightly before catching his own balance as the world-turned-oven swayed a bit in his vision.

* * *

Freiheit, even by night, was a bustling town full of people, action, and, like its namesake, Freedom. Tucked away in the desert, it was a neutral city that refused to take part in the war or shelter the military. Though, the latter oddity about the town probably was born from the actual needs of the inhabitants of the place – Freiheit was so named because it was shelter to runaways and thieves. If one wanted to escape society and the law, one ran to Freiheit. Thusly, it had gained quite a reputation as a shady place, undesirable to all things lawful and fair. It was said that people were mugged daily (and nightly) on the streets and poverty, slovenness, and avarice were rampart among its people.

But at the end of the day, with the dying sunlight casting red on the wooden shacks and stalls that lined the main street, the town was a godsend and a relief to the ex-colonel. At that moment, it didn't matter the reputation. The town meant salvation, survival, and _water_. It didn't matter the odd silence that fell as he and Edward walked along the street. It didn't matter the disbelieving glances at the blonde and the hostile glares shot his way. It didn't matter who stepped out into the road and stood in their way…

At least, not until the man pulled a knife. That brought Roy to alert as the metal gleamed in the dying light. The man was taller than Roy, and a bit more built than him as well. His skin was a few shades darker, a more chocolaty color, and his eyes shone out a vibrant green. His hair was a pure black and long enough to rival Edward's; however, it was not confined to any form of braid or tie, so it whipped about in the wind. His face was set in a snarl, pure disgust and mistrust shining in his eyes.

"Woah, woah, Daemon. Put it away. All we want is some water and a place to stay," Ed coaxed from beside Roy, arms outstretched and palms upright. "C'mon. You know me."

"Shut up, you Central scum!" the man – Daemon – roared, "us Easterners are not so stupid! We know the Fullmetal Rebel is dead!" At the man's words, some of the crowd began to chatter in agreement.

"You dumbass. I'm here, I'm _alive!_ Who else do you know has automail limbs?" Ed shot back, anger flaring across his features.

"Then tell us something only Edward Elric would know!" a woman from the crown shouted.

"Yes," Daemon grinned, flicking his knife around in his hand, "tell us about his sibling."

Roy looked at Ed in time to see a wave of semi-carefully hidden pain and guilt swim across the golden pools of his eyes. He knew the others wouldn't see it, but it was enough to anger the older man. Rage soon reflected in the blonde as well. "You only know I _have_ a sibling; you don't know anything about him! That's an irrelevant, unanswerable question you picked to fuck with me, you moron, and you know it!"

Silence followed the blonde's outburst before Daemon laughed. "It's good to see you alive, Fullmetal. Who's you friend?"

Edward sent a half-hearted, somewhat tired glare towards Roy before looking back at Daemon. "That's my business. Just know he's with me, so don't shoot or stab him. He's important to the Eastern cause."

Daemon grinned once more in reply, "You wanted water? Come right this way."

Roy followed Ed and Daemon down the path a little ways before they all headed inside a tavern. He made his way to the bar before sitting beside the blonde, separated from the taller man by the shorter one.

"Hey! Bartender! Beers on the house!"

"Actually," Ed interjected, "My friend and I really need some water."

"Awh, c'mon, Fullmetal," Daemon whined while punching Ed's shoulder, "where's your sense of fun?"

"Behind my sense of survival." Mugs of water were placed before Roy and Ed and the two drank them down with record speed.

"Woah, woah! What'd ya do, walk the way here without water or somethin'?" Daemon asked his face plastered in mock disbelief.

Roy laughed. The absurdity of it all him as Ed begrudgingly replied, "yes…" Daemon laughed, too.

"You're joking, right?"

When both Roy and Ed shook their heads, the Easterner laughed again, the sound rumbling forth and rattling the glass of alcohol before him. "No joke? Holy shit, Fullmetal! You're more crazy than a crate of nuts, and about as rare as one, too!" Then the man collapsed into a fit of incoherent sputtering and gasping as he howled at his own joke. Surely the man was drunk? But so soon?

"Don't fucking choke." Ed looked over to Roy and then back to Daemon while Roy quietly ordered himself food. He was actually surprised the younger man hadn't done so already, considering it had been his main topic of convers—well, _complaining_ for the previous few hours of travel.

At the sound of Roy's voice, Ed turned his rapt attention to the bartender and followed pursuit in the raven's attempts to gain some form of nutrition. Meanwhile, Daemon's ruckus died down to mere snickers and, between them, managed to say "d-don't tell me you haven't eaten, either..?"

With annoyance apparent, Ed replied, "Yes, you fucking shit. Do you really think we'd bring food but forget to bring water to a fucking desert? Shut the fuck up or go away, before I beat your ass into the brewing barrels back there and poison the whole town with your stupidity."

"Okay… Okay…" Daemon weezed between chuckles, "Someone's in a terrible mood today. I'll just leave you be, since you so hate my company."

Edward rolled his eyes before saying, "One thing: hotel."

To this, Daemon grinned once more (had it really ever left his face? Roy wasn't sure). "Just the main one open tonight, and they're pretty full. Come find me if you can't get a room. You remember where I live, right? But you're gonna have to be awfully nice about asking me…"

"Fuck off," Ed spat. The blonde's demeanor changed, just like that, however, when a heaping plate of food was placed between him and Roy.

"…just one plate?" Roy questioned, looking towards Edward.

"It's how the restraints don't go out of business here. You get half of your food, pay, and get the other half," the blonde explained between bites of noodles, "We have so much because you and I both ordered and we are on the same bill." When Roy raised an eyebrow in question, the younger man continued, "I don't have any money and you fucking know it, bastard. Just be grateful this town of thieves still uses the cenz-marks currency instead of pure gold like how they want to."

"The great Fullmetal Rebel has no money?" Daemon butted in, "surely something is wrong in the world!"

"_Why_ haven't you left yet?" The blonde growled, eliciting a smirk of amusement from Roy.

The dark Easterner stood and backed away, his eyes suddenly trained on Roy. The raven blinked, and kept his face an apathetic wall as he observed the emotion bled into the gaze. The other man was _jealous_ of Roy! It seeped from his body language, exuding from every pore, visible seemingly only to Roy. It was a dark glare, full of malice. Did… Daemon have something to do with Edward? Were they involved and Roy stepping in? Or was it all unrequited for the green-eyed man? From Ed's actions and words, Roy was willing to bet it was the latter of the two possibilities. After a moment, the ex-colonel turned his back, igniting anger in the other man while picking up his fork. He knew the dismissal would only serve to irritate the Daemon, but Roy was so hungry and the blonde beside him had already devoured over half the plate in the short amount of time that had passed. Besides, Roy was sure that, should Daemon attempt to harm him, the Easterner would lunge in a violent and, more vitally, loud way.

However, his doubts and speculations were silenced when the tavern door slammed and his full attention was allowed to fall upon his meal.

* * *

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU ONLY HAVE ONE FUCKING ROOM? WITH ONE BED? DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH TO GET HERE?" Ed yelled as he stared at the man across the desk. "I'VE HAD TO CROSS A DESERT WITH," he pointed to the silent raven beside him, "THIS BASTARD AND YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT I HAVE TO DEAL WITH HIM ALL NIGHT AS WELL?"

"Don't yell at me," the clerk hissed, clearly disgusted, "It's not my problem you got in so late."

"Got in so – GOD DAMMIT, I'M SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR PATH TO SUCCESS!"

"Please keep in mind that Freiheit is a neutral city and refuses to take part in the war. So no, you are not a path to _my_ success and thus shall be treated as any other customer. That means I will _not_ boot anyone out of their rooms for you, nor will I force them to sleep on the floor so you may have a second bed. You will pay full price for a single room and either share it with your buddy there, kick him out and take it for yourself, or find someplace else to stay."

Edward stared daggers at the man, trying to get him to concede to his demands. When that failed, he opened his mouth to argue once more when we was shoved backwards by the bastard Roy, who pushed his way to the desk and, in a deep voice that made part of the blonde want to shiver, said, "We'll take it. Don't mind him; he's a bit short-tem-"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SHORT?"

"—ered and is, right now, a bit past the point of exhaustion. Here's the pay," Roy handed the man a handful of marks, "give us our key, and we'll be on our way."

The clerk gaped at him for a bit, moving his hand absentmindedly over the piles of papers and other various objects on his desk for the room key. Once he found it, he handed it to the black-haired bastard. Ed couldn't (and quite frankly didn't want to) understand how or why, but what was it to him if the other man's charisma got them what they needed? Not that it made the situation any better, seeing as they still had to share a room.

A walk up creaky old stairs led to their destination: a small room with a main feature consisting of…

A twin-sized bed.

He'd be damned if he was sleeping on the floor. "I call bed," he called with a smartass grin as he leapt past Roy and jumped onto the mattress. All his. A bed, all his own. It'd be great after sleeping on concrete the night before, and sleeping on the shitty Amestrian military-issue cots before that.

In fact, the last time he had slept on something even remotely comfortable (he quickly killed the memory of how he had woken up that morning, refusing to acknowledge it had ever happened) was the _last_ time he had been in a proper "living space" with Roy.

How fucking ironic was that?

"So I am left to the floor?" Roy stared at him from the doorway, irritated.

"That sounds about right." Ed looked up at him from his place on the bed, "Hey, don't look at me like that. I got us here safe."

"I bought the room." The older man walked over to the bed, thoughts racing across his eyes too quickly for Ed to comprehend.

"I made sure you weren't killed by the people out on the street."

"I'm only here because of you," Roy shot back.

"You FUCKING BASTARD!" That was _it_! Edward launched himself at Roy, intent on ripping his head off and silencing him for good. There was a moment of flight, and then his body made contact with another, and then the sensation of falling. On the ground and on top of the other man, Ed aimed a punch with his flesh arm, only to be hampered by a pale hand gripping and preventing him. The blonde tried his other arm, only to be flipped over and pinned to the floor, Roy's dark figure above him, smirking down.

"I get the bed."

"YOU! YOU! GOD DAMN YOU!" Ed sputtered, knowing he was quickly losing whatever argument he had. He was being childish and he knew it, but it was impossible to keep himself from lashing out like that at the other man! He was just so damn _provoking_. He glared up at Roy, trying to burn holes through his head with his stare and, once again, finding that his eyes lacked the superpower to do so.

And then, the raven's head dropped, slowly inching its way downwards to Ed's face. He felt his breath hitch, his body tense and then relax, and a silent moan rack his body as his lower, more carnal section rubbed harshly against Roy's leg. Shit. When had he become hard? When had the anger turned to desire?

He watched, as if in slow-motion, as Roy's eyes of onyx widened and the smirk lost some of its bastardliness. Obviously he had not been expecting this as well.

Then, Roy kissed him, and nothing mattered anymore. It was lips on skin, and motion, and the need to get _closer_. It was burning need and instinct and _shit_ it was about releasing the building pressure inside of him. The raven ground his hips against Ed's and he moaned, unable to hold it back. The other man was just as aroused as he was. Oh, Gate, it felt amazing. "F-fuck…" he gasped through a ragged breath. "R-roy…"

He wanted to forget it all. Lose himself in the man.

But…

He couldn't.

"G-get… off… you shit..!" His self-control amazed even himself as he pulled away, trying desperately to get out of the situation. He couldn't let himself become involved with anybody, not even Roy. Roy, who lead him by the hand through mountains of emotions, sorrow and pleasure and anger and desire. Roy, who made him want something else almost as much as he wanted his brother back. Roy, who had saved his life and kept him brimming with some sort of energy. Roy, who stood on the board with him, who held the key to the end of the war, who could charm anyone into giving him what he wanted.

Roy pulled away.

And Ed never felt colder.

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**Please review! Oh, please, please, please review!**

**AND: Shameless plugging time.  
If you have not yet been forced to read my latest oneshot... I adore it to bits! If you like Sparks, it just might be worth your while to glance "Reading with Colonel Mustang" over.  
Yes, I really just did that. xD**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! It's been a little while, huh? Yeah... Um... Well... My muse kinda just sputtered out and died for this and I had to resuscitate it. It's alive again, though, and updates should resume on a semi-normal basis. Maybe. **

**Anyhow! This chapter is a bit short and that's because there is absolutely NO PLOT MOVEMENT in here except, y'know, in the RoyEd department. **

**Yes kiddies. I wrote a lemon-ish bit of a chapter. No, it is not just fluff on steroids. ARE YOU EXCITED YET? This is my first... scene... haha, so don't expect it to be something wonderful (like what dear Proser or the lovely Beautifulfic or sweet jarnsaxa can cook up, to name a few amazing writers out there. Not to say that only their smut is good - far from it, in fact, because every single friggan sentence they write is a work of art... or something... - but... you get my point. DON'T BE DISAPPOINTED IN MEEEE)**

**Ahem, so, if you don't like the smex, get lost. Er, I mean, skip this chapter. You won't miss anything relevant to the story, I promise. You could even imagine that little "screen fades to black thing" and when it comes back in, you can assume that a bit of the sexual tension had been relieved! **

**Okay, okay. I'll shut up now.**

**DISCLAIMER: You are sorely misled if you think I own FMA. Maybe you should get your head checked, yeah?**

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Sparks Fly in the Dark  
Chapter 10

God _damn_ Ed for his self-control. God _damn_ Roy for his stupid, stupid hormones. He wasn't stupid horny teenager! He was a grown man, for pete's sake!

Thus were Roy Mustang's thoughts as he woke on the cold hotel floor, stiff in his lower regions and with only a blanket for company. Ed snored away on the bed, content with Roy's own blue uniform jacket as coverage. It was cold in the room; a draft leaked through the window which, surly, was not shut all the way. During the night, deserts jump from the extreme heat of the day to the frigidness of night. Freiheit was no exemption.

Briefly, Roy wondered what the time was and quickly decided he didn't care. What was important was relieving himself. Now.

He stood, rather awkwardly, in the darkness of the room and made his way to the door. It creaked on rusty hinges when Roy opened it, and it made his heart stop as Edward stirred in his sleep. It would be terrible if he woke to find Roy this way…

Seconds passed that felt more like hours and when Roy was assured the blonde wasn't going to wake, the dark-haired man slipped out and into the bathroom a door down.

Inside, the stark stench of urine hit him heavily. Turning on the light revealed three stalls and a single, grimy sink. Paint peeled from the walls and the floor was sticky beneath his feet. Instantly, he wished he would have had the foresight to grab his boots, but he wasn't willing to risk getting caught going back to the room to fetch them. Besides, he argued with himself, the stickiness didn't exactly have to be piss.

From inside his pants, his cock throbbed painfully. Heeding its silent command, the man made his way to the middle stall and slipped his way inside.

The toilet, thankfully, had its lid down and the covering itself wasn't terribly grimy. With a hiss, Roy slipped down his pants and underwear and sat on the lid. He jumped when he grabbed his hard shaft and suppressed a moan at the pleasure it invoked. _How_ he needed this. With a gasp, he moved his hand up to grip his tip and slid it back down.

"Sh-shit…"

Unable to control himself, he began to thrust forward into his hand. He imagined himself inside of something tight and warm… and found himself longing for Edward under him, writhing in pleasure and cursing out as Roy brought them both to completion. It brought him over the edge far quicker than anything else ever had and as he came, Roy couldn't help but moan as the onslaught of pleasure whited out his mind.

"E-edward..!"

His own pants filled the room as he waited for the high to wear off. The bathroom wasn't the most dignified place to do this sort of thing but… he thought, that had to have been one of the best orgasms he had ever had…

Roy stood and wiped up his mess with toilet paper before hitching his pants and underwear back up (though not in that order) and opened the stall…

…to find the object of his latest fantasy standing there, mouth agape and obviously aroused, if not sleep-stricken.

* * *

Ed had woken to an empty room (no, he didn't care where that bastard had run off to, thank you very much) and the urgent need to piss. _He_ had made his way out of the room after pulling on his boots and opened the bathroom door to find the light already on and the heavy breathing of someone attempting to… well, you know.

Determined to do his business and get out of there, Ed made his way to the nearest stall and peed, amazed that the sound didn't alert the man in the next stall over. Swallowing hard and trying desperately not to remember what had happened in the room hours before between Roy and he, Ed turned to leave the stall (not bothering to flush for fear of the noise alerting the other man to his presence) and stopped short when he saw the edge of familiar blue military-issue uniform pants.

It was Roy in the next stall over.

A shiver racked his body and he knew, _knew_ he had to leave, _now_, or he would lose any shred of self-control. He didn't understand why the man had such an effect on him, didn't want him to have such an effect on him, but yet, there it was. And there was no pretending it didn't exist. So the best Edward could do was actively fight it. He had a mission for Gate's sake! He had to save Al, and having a lover, much less a male one, would only bog him down. He couldn't allow himself to waver from that path.

And then Ed heard Roy yell out his name as he came.

Shaky hands opened the stall door before him and he made a few tentative steps after a few minutes that he spent steeling his will. He would head back to the room, get in bed, feign sleep, and then work on his problem _after_ Roy fell back asleep.

At least, that was the plan until Roy opened his own stall door and caught Edward standing there, mouth agape and obviously aroused.

They stood silent, staring at each other for a few agonizing moments during which Ed tried to ignore the painful twitches and throbs coming from his cock.

"You… heard… me?" Roy managed, his voice loud in the quiet room.

Ed nodded, never moving his eyes from the older man's face.

"I…" Roy tried to explain himself, but couldn't. Ed watched as he scrambled for words and then gave up after seconds of unintelligible bits of words.

Without a sound, Ed turned to go, his legs wobbly and his whole body aside from his rational mind screaming for him to stay. Gate, please not let Roy try to stop-

"Edward…"

Golden eyes flicked back to a pale face with onyx eyes pleading. In a shaky voice, Ed sputtered, "Yes, you s-eem to like tha-t name."

Roy made a step forward and Ed didn't move. He couldn't move. He felt as though he were glued to the spot, unable to escape. He could only watch as the dark haired man moved closer to him and stood right before him, looking down with unhidden want.

Ed opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted by Roy.

"I'll… leave you be. I'm going… back to the room." The dark-haired man turned to leave the bathroom.

"Wait," Ed said, voice rough and low. Roy turned his head back to look at Ed as the blonde continued, "I… Roy, I…" He _what_? Wanted Roy to stay? Wanted the man to touch him like he had himself moments before? Wanted to give in to the temptation? Wanted to explain himself? Wanted in general?

"You what?" Roy's words echoed Ed's thoughts.

"I…" and with a harsh swallow, Ed made up his mind. "Help me…" he said in a demand almost nonexistent.

The raven-haired man stood for a second, and Ed feared he hadn't heard his admission. But _Gate_, he needed this. He knew he did, with every fiber of his being. And when Roy placed one hand on his chest and the other down his pants onto his cock and pushed Ed lightly back into the wall, Ed knew that he had utterly lost in his battle of self-control.

Ed moaned softly only to have his lips captured by the man above him. A metal hand grabbed a fistful of white shirt as the blonde unwillingly bucked forward into Roy's hand. Teeth grazed Ed's lips and he parted them, allowing Roy to dip inside with his tongue and explore. Roy's other hand found its way up Ed's shirt, where it rubbed and roamed about his chest.

After a few moments, Roy pulled away slightly to breath and it seemed that the sound of their panting filled the room to the brim. With adept fingers, Roy pulled Ed's pants down to his knees and knelt before him, giving him a lick. Ed moaned a bit louder – something like "don't stop," but not even he was cognizant of what his mouth was doing because all that mattered anymore was what _Roy's_ mouth was doing. Ed twitched and entangled his flesh hand into the dark hair before him as Roy slowly took his shaft inwards. The older man used his hands to pin Ed's hips against the wall as he continued to lick and suck at Edward. Ed could do nothing but attempt to stay a bit quieter and moan the other man's name.

It wasn't long before the blonde cried out and let it go, the pleasure filling his mind to the brim and filling Roy's mouth.

Shakily, Ed slid to the floor with Roy still crouched before him, smirking lightly. "Roy…" he managed roughly.

"'You seem to like that name'," the man said cockily.

Red raged across Ed's cheeks. "Shut up," he said as he reached his hand forward to Roy's already re-erect shaft trapped inside of his pants. Roy only made a guttural sound in reply as Ed easily manipulated the clothing down followed by the appendage in his flesh hand and forced Roy to come as well, only in much shorter a time.

"Shit…" Roy muttered as he looked at Ed.

"No kidding," he agreed, "but this is your fault, I'll have you know, you horny bastard."

Roy looked taken aback. Obviously he wasn't expecting that response. But with the desire gone for the moment, Ed was able to draw back on his reserves of irritance with the man.

"_My_ fault? How is this my fault?" the raven demanded, "You're the one who asked me to-"

"First of all," Ed interrupted, "I didn't ask you to. I told you to because otherwise you were probably going to rape me in my sleep if I didn't."

"Rape you?" Roy raised an eyebrow. "I was making sure I wouldn't do just that, thank you very mu-"

"Secondly," Ed interrupted again, "it's your damn fault for constantly trying to get me into bed with you."

"I have _not_ been trying to-"

Ed clamped his hand over Roy's mouth and grinned, "Don't expect this to happen all the time. I still have work to do. And so do you." He watched as Roy's eyes shined with something like triumph before he removed his hand and replaced it with his lips.

Since the bathroom was so dirty anyways, the two only bothered to clean themselves up a bit before returning to their room. And as Ed laid on the small mattress pulled up close to Roy, he couldn't help thinking:

He had never felt warmer.

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**Oh, yes, by the way: I am going through the process of editing up the previous chapters. Nothing major, just fixing a few things that bother me - like repetitiveness, typos, completely wrong words, the like. Have to polish up this work of mine. **

**Be nice to me and review. I really need feedback for this one. TELL ME IF I DID SOMETHING WRONG. OR IF I DID SOMETHING RIGHT. OR IF YOU REALLY COULDN'T CARE LESS. OR IF I JUST NEED TO LAY OFF THE SUGAR. **


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